


see the sparks filled with hope (you are not alone)

by niallszayn



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:05:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 57,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6425197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niallszayn/pseuds/niallszayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>„Hello,” Niall mumbled, hot flush already crawling up his neck again. „I should…I won’t keep you from your work.”</i><br/><i>Zayn sighed a little and rubbed at his forehead, leaving a small smudge of dirt behind. Niall’s fingers twitched with how much he wanted to reach out and wipe it away.</i><br/><br/>Ireland, 1923.<br/>When Niall returns from war, he’s not the same young man he was before. Back home at his parent’s mansion, it takes an old friend and young gardener to get him to open up. But what is Zayn to Niall? What can he be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i can’t believe it’s actually done! my contribution to the 1d big bang round 4 :) it’s taken me months to finish this and i still wish i’d had more time to do more research because you’ll find many inaccurate things in this (the word boyfriend not being used until a couple decades later being the smallest one), i hope you won’t be too bothered! If you are, leave a comment or [send an ask](http://www.kissingziall.tumblr.com/ask) and i’ll do my best to change it.  
> i had the idea for a fic like this back in summer 2014 when i spent a holiday in cornwall, england, and visited the lost gardens of heligan. a lot of the gardens in this fic are inspired by them, even though i relocated them to ireland.  
> this fic wouldn’t have been possible if it wasn’t for the help of many people. thank you to steffi for the wonderful beta and your capitalised comments, the excitement for this fic you had from the moment i first told you about the idea and for your constant support. thank you to annika for the encouraging words, thank you to seren, allie and katelyn for listening to me and always being supportive and encouraging, as well as for writing the other three ziall fics for this big bang. i love you all very much.  
> a big thank you to the mods for organising this big bang!! it’s been a pleasure and an honour being part of it.  
> last but not least, thank you to kris, my wonderful assigned artist, for the [incredible picspam that can be found here](http://kissingziall.tumblr.com/post/142410523880/see-the-sparks-filled-with-hope-you-are-not). a thousand times thank you for making my fic come alive like that!
> 
> this fic isn’t entirely historically correct (mostly for plot reasons, occasionally because i didn’t have time to dig deeper for more information, a lot because i’m not irish and know far too little about irish history), but to make it easier to understand, here’s a small timeline:
> 
> 1914-1918 - world war I  
> 1919-1921 irish war of independence  
> june 1922 - may 1923 irish civil war
> 
> **warnings:** anxiety, panic attacks, minor character death (off screen), period-typical racism, period-typical homophobia, internalised homophobia
> 
> Did you love but never learn?  
> The fire's out but still it burns  
> And no one cares, there's no one there
> 
> Did you find it hard to breathe?  
> Did you cry so much that you could barely see?  
> You're in the darkness all alone  
> And no one cares, there's no one there
> 
> But did you see the flares in the sky?  
> Were you blinded by the light?  
> Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?  
> Did you? Did you?  
> Did you see the sparks filled with hope? You are not alone  
> Cause someone's out there, sending out flares
> 
> flares, the script

**Ireland, April 1923**

The one thing Niall couldn't forget was the sounds. 

He'd forgotten what it had smelled like, twenty young men who hadn't seen water up close in days, covered in mud. The smoke, the gunpowder, the rotting things - he still didn't want to think about what exactly was rotting by the side of the road. He didn't remember his comrades’ faces, or what cities they'd marched through. The way it had felt to pull the trigger, the pain the blisters on his feet caused in his boots - all gone. 

But he knew that he would never be able to forget what it sounded like when whole streets burned down, the flames roaring like a storm, the screams of people who lost everything, the cracking as the heavy wood splintered. The way his ears would ring every time a shot fired, or the pain in the voice of people who'd lost someone they loved. 

Sometimes he woke up at night, the noises still in his ears, and his throat felt sore from screaming. He was relieved his parents slept far away enough not to hear anything and no one else was close enough to be disturbed either. 

Denise and little Theo slept closer, but even if Denise heard she wouldn't say. She hadn't said anything since they'd gotten the news, his mother had told Niall. It was sad to watch, Niall thought, watching the formerly lively woman slowly fade away.  

Theo was a quiet little one too, maybe because of how his mother acted, but Niall had a plan to change that, give his nephew the childhood he deserved, be the father he didn't have anymore.  

Niall rubbed his eyes when he thought about Greg. They hadn't been very close, eight years apart were too long of a time and Greg had always said their parents were too soft with Niall. As a kid, Niall had heard a maid say it was „because of the other little ones”, and he'd slowly pieced the story together – the years between Greg’s and Niall's births, the small grave next to his grandparents for a little girl called Rose Horan, the stories the staff sometimes told. There'd been several children between them, and Niall was the first one to live longer than a couple of months.  

But even though he'd hated when Greg teased and pushed and shoved him, told their parents to stop treating Niall like a girl and make him a man, made him stop playing music and was the one who came up with the idea of sending him off to military school, he was still his brother. Until he died fighting a war that wasn’t really his.  

Niall hadn't heard until he came home to Kylemore House weeks later, having healed in an overcrowded military hospital, and found out that everything had changed.  

If Greg was still alive, he would tell Niall off for acting the way he was, but not even that would've bothered him. Sometimes Niall almost hoped someone would hear his screams and make it stop, because he didn't know what to do. It was unmanly, so he didn't know who to ask, what to say. His pillow was wet with tears every morning and that wasn't something he could say out loud. To anyone.  

Niall had only been home at the big house for a couple of weeks but he was already starting to hate it almost as much as his camp. He only had limited mobility which meant he only ever stayed inside, where grief was the predominant feeling and his brother’s ghost was everywhere.  

His knee was starting to get better though, as was the weather when April turned into May. He'd been staring out at the gardens for so long, maybe it was time to go outside. 

Tentatively, Niall stretched his leg, feeling the ache around his knee where the shrapnel had hit and damaged his knee forever. It wasn't as bad an injury as many other soldiers had suffered, but it was enough to remind Niall of the damned war for the rest of his life. 

They'd been trained for the fight at the school he'd been sent to when he was twelve, but it had always been an abstract prospect for Niall. He was too young to be recruited for the War of Independence, not even fifteen, but when the Civil War started not even a year after the last one ended, he was close enough to his eighteenth birthday to be called in for the National Army, along with many of his friends from school. 

Most of them hadn’t even fought for their beliefs, in Niall’s opinion it was stupid to fight against your own countrymen just because they wanted something a little different. He’d been on the pro-treaty side, which just meant he fought for a treaty with England that would separate a part of their country from the rest. Niall agreed it was probably the best deal they could get, this Home Rule, but he wasn’t convinced enough to want to go to war for it. He’d had to, though, because his father believed in the treaty and so did Niall’s school. It seemed to be the “right” side, the attack during which Niall had been hurt had – as far as he knew – been the biggest one since.

His brother went as well, it was his second war within only a few years. He'd survived the first one unharmed - but payed the ultimate price in the last one. Sometimes Niall felt guilty for having survived the way he had, with an injury that wouldn't keep him from working in his profession, which had suddenly changed when his brother died. If he hadn't, Niall would've either become an officer eventually or gone to university to become a politician. That was what the younger sons in his family did. Now, however, he was to become the new master, following in his father’s footsteps and leading Kylemore House. The mansion had gotten its name from the Irish words _Coill Mór_ , meaning _large woods_ , like the ones that surrounded the estate on the side facing away from the sea. It was the reason he'd gone home to heal instead of staying with the doctors at his school. He had to learn everything his brother had been taught all his life, everything he'd missed since he'd been away at school. His future was safe, even with a knee he might never be able to use properly again. 

Many of his comrades weren't so lucky though. He knew craftsmen who'd lost an arm, farmers who lost a leg or had been paralysed. Those men had nowhere to go, nothing to be - there was no telling how they'd survive, or feed their families. It made Niall feel guilty to be this privileged. 

He winced when his fingers pressed into a spot by his knee that made a sharp pain shoot up his thigh and took his hands away. He wasn't ready to go for a walk yet, he decided dejectedly. Instead, he decided to finally respond to the letter his best friend Liam had sent. 

With a groan like an old man, Niall sat down at his desk and reached for paper and his pen. Liam had written him two weeks ago and he knew he had to be careful with his response. Liam would know something was wrong all too quickly, so it couldn't be too cheerful or Liam would know he was lying. 

_Dear Liam,_ he started and then stared at the empty sheet of paper for ten minutes. _I was so glad to receive your letter. Hearing you are well and have arrived home safely was a great relief, especially since your family seem to be well as well._

Niall took a deep breath and put the cap back on his pen. He'd need some time to write the next part. 

_I was still rather weak when I arrived here, but I have been well taken care of and my knee is getting better under the ministrations of our maids and the doctor who comes up from the village twice a week. However, the mood isn't what you would call hopeful, which has nothing to do with me or my condition. My dear friend, I have to tell you that my brother Greg sadly fell only a few days before my incident. I don't know the specifics, my family is rather closed off about it, but my mother and sister-in-law especially are devastated. My nephew is too young to understand why his father hasn't returned, but my sister-in-law hasn't uttered a word since I've arrived. This, of course, means I won't be returning to school come August to complete my education, should the war be over by then. Instead, I will be doing so here, learning how to lead Kylemore House and take over my brother's - and eventually my father's - place._

_I will surely miss you and the other lads, but this is my place and my inheritance, and I shall do as well as I can. I do hope you will manage to visit me someday, or I you. Please do keep writing, I would hate for us to drift apart!_

Niall put the pen down to stop himself from writing about how dull life was like this, knowing Liam he'd ignore all orders and jump the next train to come and cheer him up. He might still, Niall thought, once he got the letter and heard about Greg's death. Liam was like that, possibly too caring. He was a good friend, and Niall loved him dearly. 

It hadn't always been easy for Niall at military school. Maybe Greg had been right and their parents had been too soft with Niall, but he'd found it hard to adjust to the rough way the boys treated each other, and the even rougher ways the teachers had with them. The only boys his age Niall had had contact with until then had been the ones he'd gone to school with in their little village, mostly the staff's children because they lived closest, on the grounds of their house. They'd been much nicer to him and each other, mostly spent the days kicking a ball around, discovering the gardens or going down to the beach if the weather was good enough. He hadn't seen them since he left his home at twelve and only came back for brief visits. None of them worked at the house, as far as he knew, so there was no reason to run into them. He wondered if the past six or seven years had changed them this much as well. 

Liam had been the one to make it bearable for Niall, he stuck with him, held him when he cried because he was homesick, and didn't tell a soul. He still did that, hugging Niall, even though they both knew the other boys didn't usually hug their friends. Niall knew that him and Liam were much more tactile than their classmates, but he didn't mind. He'd stopped crying when he got older, but Liam's hugs were comforting nonetheless - they would be now as well, since he'd apparently started crying again, but Niall didn't want to worry Liam. 

Technically, he was almost happy to have a reason to give up his impending career with the military or politics, he'd never felt like that was something he'd want to do for the rest of his life. Neither was being the master of their estate - something that seemed terribly old-fashioned to him - but at least he'd have more freedom to do what he liked, or so he hoped. Things were bound to change, maybe he could make use of his position for that. Practically, however, Niall was terrified of how everything in his life that had seemed so sure - his career, finding a wife, starting a family - had changed so quickly. The expectations were different now, he didn't have a career per se but a reputation to uphold, a name to represent. He wouldn't be able to just marry anyone, there'd be standards his future wife would have to fulfil - although, if Niall was honest, the thought of marrying seemed foreign to him anyway.  

Him and Liam had gone out for a night on the town with some of their classmates a couple of times, and Niall had danced with girls just like the rest of them, even kissed a few. He'd liked it well enough, just - imagining marrying one of them didn't fill him with excitement like it seemed for some of his friends. Some of the lads were even worse, they didn't talk about marriage at all but were so vulgar that Niall felt awkward just thinking about it. 

With a sigh, Niall decided to conclude his letter by wishing Liam and his family all the best and repeating that he was getting better. He really didn't want Liam to worry too much, he’d need all his concentration fighting this stupid war. 

Carefully, he folded the letter and put it inside an envelope. He'd ask one of the maids to drop it off at the post office for him later. Most of them didn't live at the big house anymore, they'd moved down to the village and had to go past it anyway. Or one of them at least, as far as Niall knew. Also, they seemed to be quite fond of Niall, so he'd only have to ask nicely. 

The next letter Niall got from Liam was full of condolences and pity - and, of course, worry. _Make sure you exercise your knee enough, go outside, take short walks - fresh air will help your spirit as well. I worry that you're by yourself too much, but you need some company, Niall. Your nephew is too young, your sister-in-law doesn't talk - or so you said - but do you have any friends nearby you could visit? If not, just say the word and I will make the journey over. I can picture you sitting there by yourself, reading my letter and shaking your head - I know you say I worry too much, but I just want you to be well. So please, do speak up! I really would not mind coming for a visit, if I would not be intruding during this time of grief._

For a moment, Niall wondered whether it'd be better if he asked Liam to visit but quickly discarded the idea again. Through letters, he was at least able to hide what he looked like, and hopefully part of how he felt. He knew he looked terrible, pale, with dark bags under his eyes. Sickly, from staying inside all the time and barely sleeping. He still hadn't managed to sleep through a whole night, and it was draining him of all the energy he had left - which wasn't much to start with. Sometimes Niall felt as if the war had broken more than just his knee. 

So no, he wouldn't be asking Liam for a visit anytime soon, he didn't want anyone to know about the state he was in. His family were too distracted at the moment to really notice anything was different from the usual, and the staff he regularly saw were the only ones who seemed to care. Mrs Malik, their cook, always tried to convince him to an extra serving when she brought him his dinner and the maids who came to clean his room or bring his washing – Shauna and Doniya - talked to him, tried to make him laugh and offered to go down to the gardens with him, but Niall hadn't really felt able to yet. 

After having read Liam's letter though, Niall thought that maybe it was time to get over himself a little bit and try to escape the feeling of drowning he'd constantly had since the shrapnel had hit his knee with a sickening crunch and unbearable pain. Maybe it'd help to go outside, Niall thought. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head a little bit and he'd be able to see something positive in the world again. 

Tomorrow, Niall thought as he looked out at the sun that was already shining into his room, low enough for him to use it as an excuse not to go today. Tomorrow he'd get dressed and take a walk through the garden. 

*

“The garden“ was a term that only applied loosely to the parklike grounds of the house Niall had grown up in. They stretched all around the house, a long driveway leading up to the yard by the front entrance. There were tidy terraces and pathways, some covered against the weather and some not, neat flowerbeds and cleanly cut hedges and trees. There was a market garden full of vegetables and fruit, stables that were now mostly used as garages for the growing assortment of cars, and a couple of small houses for the staff that decided to live on the grounds instead of the village. One part of the garden was called “The Jungle“ for its exotic plants and the resulting moist climate underneath the low hanging leaves of palm trees and such.  

Niall had always found that part of the garden fascinating and a bit scary, puzzled by how these plants could grow in the Irish climate and how different the air felt once you got far enough inside. His father had told Niall as a child that the garden had been created by one of their ancestors who'd been a tradesman and had travelled to places where gardens grew that way. Apparently he'd missed the plants and the warm, wet climate, and he'd spared no effort or money to recreate a small part of that nature on his own land.  

Beyond those more or less orderly gardens, Niall knew there was a wilder part of their land, something that wasn't tended to regularly anymore. It had gotten too big for the shrinking garden staff and had eventually been left to itself, turning into what it was now. “The Lost Gardens,” Niall's mum had called those parts when Niall was a child and she'd forbidden him to wander out there. The furthest he'd been allowed to go was “The Jungle,” and never alone. Closer to the house, a narrow stairway had been carved into the side of the cliff the house was perched on, leading down to the beach. 

They'd spent a lot of time down there during the summers of their childhood, Niall and his friends. He hadn't thought about discovering the “Lost Gardens” in years. 

*

He didn't think about it when he slowly, carefully, hobbled down the stairs at the back of the house to the gardens the next day either. It was a difficult and painful process for his unused muscles and healing knee and Niall could already tell he wouldn't get far today.  

Unsure of where to go, he paused at the bottom of the stairs. What did he want to see? How far could he even go? 

“Are you alright?”

Niall startled at the question, dropping the cane he'd brought outside with him - it used to be his grandfather's, and Niall remembered the sound of it from when his grandfather had slowly made his way through the house, a rhythmic knocking on the hardwood floors. 

It was a young man who'd spoken, or a boy, around his age. Dark hair, dark eyes and a jaw that was sharper than Niall could ever hope for. He was beautiful, and Niall blushed when the thought crossed his mind. Men weren't _beautiful_. 

“Um,” Niall made and tried to remember what the boy had said.  

He smiled a little and took a step closer. “No need to be embarrassed, I heard what happened.” 

Confused, Niall followed his line of sight and the gesture he made with his hand and – “Oh.” He thought Niall was blushing because of his leg.  

“If you need help, just let me know,” the boy said. “Where did you want to go?” 

“Just,” Niall made a vague gesture with his hand, “take a walk. Get some fresh air.” 

The boy nodded, seemingly pleased with Niall's answer. “It'll be good for you. And if you need anything, just call - I'll be right over there.” 

He picked up the cane Niall had dropped and handed it to him without a word, not making a big deal out of it. With something like a small salute and a crooked grin in Niall's direction, the boy took off around the corner, leaving Niall feeling slightly dazed.  

Without thinking more about it, he started walking one way until he got to a bench by the path, framed by rose trees that weren't in bloom yet, the leaves a deep green. Heavily, Niall sat down on it, feeling like an old man. The sun felt good on his face though, he couldn't deny that.  

For some reason, his mind kept drifting back to the boy he'd just met. He felt like he knew him, more than he'd know someone who came up from the village to tend to the gardens. At least that was what Niall thought he'd been doing. He'd seemed familiar, and it made Niall feel unsettled.  

He was distracted, however, when someone shouted his name – shouted, not called.  

“Niall Horan!” the voice went and when Niall turned his head, there was someone moving towards him quickly. Fast movements were something Niall had had trouble with since the war but he forced himself to relax once he saw the man hurrying towards him was grinning. “Is that really you? Didn't expect to see you here!” 

The closer he got, the surer Niall was that he knew this one as well. From the way he was being greeted, it was probably true. “Was looking for Zayn, and instead I see you!” 

Suddenly, it all clicked into place and Niall felt very slow for not realising it earlier. _Zayn_. This was Louis, and the boy from earlier was Zayn. His childhood friends.  

“How are you? Can I even still call you Niall or is it some title now? Sorry about your brother, by the way, shame, that. Are you staying for longer? Haven't seen you here in ages.” 

“Louis,” a soft voice said, and Niall had no trouble connecting it with the face he'd seen earlier. Zayn had interrupted him. “Have you even let him say a single word?” 

“There you are!” Louis exclaimed. “Look who I found!” 

“We met earlier,” Niall said and it was the first thing he'd said since Louis had stormed towards him. Also probably the first coherent sentence either of them had heard him say. Both boys turned to him, surprised.  

“Did you?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow at Zayn.  

Zayn shrugged. “He came out of the house, I walked past, we had a chat. No need to feel left out, Lou.”

Niall smiled at the ground, thankful that Zayn didn't mention how much trouble he'd had, or how awkward he had behaved. Then he realised this was the first time he'd smiled because of anyone who wasn't Theo in weeks. Months, maybe. 

“Wasn't feeling left out, just curious,” Louis said defensively and then turned back to Niall. “So, not to be disrespectful, but what should we call you now?” 

“Please just call me Niall,” Niall said immediately. He'd been called by his rank, his last name or just “son” a lot, but except for Liam, no one had just called him by his first name in ages. Besides, “I'm still just Niall, I don't wanna be, like, reduced to what I'm going to inherit, I haven't even _done_ anything yet.”

It was almost funny how alike Zayn and Louis looked with their thoughtful expressions, nodding seriously.  

“I like that,” Louis said. “I know it's not how anyone would've wanted it, but it's good to have you back.”

Niall bit his lip and nodded. “I just wish it'd be for a different reason.”

“Obviously,” Louis nodded and Zayn smiled at Niall a little sadly. 

“Anyway,” Louis continued, seemingly having decided the awkward silence had stretched on for long enough. “I'm not here at the house very often, but maybe I'll run into you again. I just came to drop something off for Zayn, but it was nice seeing you. You look...” He cleared his throat and backtracked. “I'll see you soon, yeah? Keep your head up!” 

He turned around, pulling Zayn along who turned back around to smile at Niall. “Bye, Niall,” he said quietly and Niall lifted his hand in a weak wave.  

He was pretty sure Louis had just said he looked absolutely terrible, and even though he'd thought so himself on plenty occasions, it was a bit hurtful hearing it from someone else. Niall stayed on the bench for what must've been about an hour, feeling sorry for himself until he slowly got up again and limped back to the house. 

Mrs Malik's face when she saw him come in from outside cheered him up a little bit again, and so did her soft touch to his cheek later that evening when she served him dinner. “You've gotten a little bit of colour again,” she smiled, her thumb stroking Niall's cheek carefully. “It's good to see.”

Niall almost started crying at that, he hadn't been touched in ages either. Which, admittedly, was his own fault since he always went rigid as soon as someone got too close to him. Apparently it was time to get over that too, though. 

Strangely, the fact that Louis had thought he looked dreadful seemed to spur something in Niall on. He got up easier in the mornings and started going outside every day. His walks got longer every day, he could feel his strength growing every day, and a look in the mirror wasn't something he dreaded anymore. After a few days, the sun and fresh air had coloured his cheeks a faint red that didn't vanish anymore, probably the closest to a tan he'd ever get, and his hair already seemed lighter again. Slowly, he recognised himself again. 

Whenever it was raining too hard to go outside, he walked around the house, taking on stairs even, and at night he could feel his muscles ache. The next day, it didn't hurt as much. 

He still didn't sleep well, but the exercise tired him out enough to at least get a few hours every night. The nightmares he had didn't really make it all that relaxing, though, so the shadows under his eyes were still there, dark as ever. 

Niall kept going out to the gardens though, because at least it helped to drown out the darkness inside of him during the day. 

For almost two weeks, he didn't see Zayn at all, except for at church. As soon as he’d been able to walk again, he’d had to take up the Horan family visits to the church every Sunday again. He saw Zayn there, in the back of the church with his mother and three sisters, but never talked to him or even met his eye when he walked past him to the front of the church on his crutches.

It wasn't as if he was looking out for him, but Niall went to different parts of the garden almost every day and he was never there. Of course, it was possible Niall had made false assumptions, but he knew that Mr Malik, Zayn's father, was still their gardener, and Zayn had had dirt stains on his trousers, and working gloves that were caked with mud. The logical conclusion for Niall was that Zayn had joined his father as a gardener, but maybe he'd been wrong about that. 

When Niall wasn't outside or training his muscles some other way, he was studying, reading whatever his father gave him to learn. The rest of his time was spent with his nephew. Theo was only a little over a year old and probably not aware of much yet, but Niall thought he didn't laugh enough for a child of his age. Not surprising in a house this sad, but Niall vowed to change it anyway. He didn't ever want his nephew to feel the way he was feeling, especially when he was still so young and innocent. Theo's nanny was doing her best, but Denise, Niall's sister-in-law, wouldn't leave her bed most days and didn't engage with her son at all. Niall understood that she was grieving but he didn't understand the way she was treating her own son. 

Each day without fail, Niall told Theo's nanny, Mrs Rooney, to take a well-deserved break and watched Theo by himself. Sometimes he read to him, sometimes he bounced him as well as he could with his bum knee but most of the time he just played with Theo the way his nephew wanted to. He was smart and brought Niall whatever toy he wanted to play with, and Niall humoured him.  

Soon, Theo's laughter rang through the house again and he was the person in the house Niall felt closest to. 

When Niall next saw Zayn, he was in the middle of replanting some flowers - they'd apparently been grown in pots and were now considered big enough to move to a flower bed. So he'd been right. Niall's head suddenly felt a bit funny and he paused mid step, watching Zayn's rhythmic movements as he went about his work, seemingly absorbed in it. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt and a cap to protect himself from the sun, and again Niall couldn't help but admire his beauty. 

The Zayn he remembered was a shy, quiet boy, dorky and fun to be around once he grew comfortable enough, but he'd never thought of him as particularly handsome. Then again, Niall supposed, who really was handsome at 12? 

“Zayn,” he said, trying to shake himself out of it. He really had to stop thinking about men this way. There was a word for that, and it wasn't a nice one. 

This time it was Zayn who jumped, turning around with wide eyes. “Sorry,” Niall said quickly. “Didn't mean to startle you.” 

“Niall,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest cutely for a moment. “Didn't even hear you coming.”

“Well,” Niall said and held his hands towards him, palms up. “I don't have the cane anymore.” 

Zayn grinned brightly for a few seconds and then looked Niall up and down in a way that made him blush again. “You look better than last time. Healthier, like. Are you feeling better?”

“My knee hurts less,” Niall explained, avoiding a direct answer. “And my legs don't tire as quickly anymore.”

“I'm glad to hear that. We were worried about you.” 

Niall frowned. “We?”

“My mum and me. Louis, and Harry. Do you remember Harry? We told him about you.”

“Yeah, 'course,” Niall said and thought of curly hair and warm hugs. 

Zayn shrugged. “I wasn't sure if you recognised me the other day.” 

Niall blushed again, embarrassed. “To be honest, I didn't at first. You've changed a lot.”

“So have you,” Zayn said and the way he was looking at him so intensely was making feel Niall strangely vulnerable. Like he was laid out in front of Zayn with nothing to hide behind. 

“It's been a few years,” he said defensively and Zayn seemed to understand, turning his eyes away. 

“You're right,” he agreed. “We've all grown up, haven't we?” 

Niall nodded. “So are you following in your father's footsteps now, then?”

“Something we have in common, I guess,” Zayn confirmed. “I've always helped him out anyway, and it seemed like the best possibility I had. I like working in the gardens, and my father won't be able to do it forever.”

He didn't seem very passionate about his job, but who really was? Finding a job was a question of who your parents were, where you had gone to school and how much you could pay. Niall didn't have to spend more time with Zayn to know he was much cleverer than he had to be for work like this, but it was rarely about that, especially in rural parts like here. 

Niall himself would rather do many different things instead of caring for the estate and everything that came with it, but he didn't have a choice unless he wanted to sell everything. That would kill his parents though, so it wasn't an option. Besides, Niall did love Kylemore House and its grounds. He'd grown up here and he couldn't imagine giving it to other people. 

“Have Harry and Louis stayed at the estate as well?” he asked, eager to get away from any reason for Zayn to ask about himself. 

“Harry still lives here, with his mother and stepfather, and his sister, but he's working in a bakery down at the village. Louis moved out when his mother married again and had another set of twins –“ 

“Wait,” Niall interrupted him. “Twins again? How many children are they now?” He remembered how Louis stepfather had died when his little twin sisters were still babies, not older than two, and how worried Louis had been that they'd have to move. Niall's parents had taken on Louis' mother to do their washing, though, and they'd stayed. 

“Seven,”Zayn explained. “Louis has five sisters and a brother. And a new stepfather who he likes well enough. He said it was getting too crowded, though. He's working as a fisherman now, did you know? Think he'd like to be a sailor, travel the world, but he's starting this way.” 

“Can't leave his family behind, eh?” Niall teased lightly and Zayn grinned as if something about that made him very happy.  

“He won't say,” he said, “but I suspect that's the main reason he's not trying harder to find a captain that'll let him go on board. He's always been close to his mum and sisters.” 

Niall nodded. He remembered that, remembered how he'd always admired – and maybe been jealous of – Louis’ relationship with his sisters that was so much warmer than his and Greg’s had ever been. He'd never thought his relationship with his parents was bad, they were closer than many of his classmates were with their parents, but lately he'd wished they'd care a little bit more.  

Of course, the situation was extreme, but he felt like all they cared about was that he was left to take care of the estate and not their only son now. Neither of them had noticed how Niall felt or looked.  

“Everything alright?” Zayn asked and Niall noticed he must've drifted off for a moment.  

“Fine,” he said, focusing on Zayn again. “I'm fine.” 

Zayn didn't seem very convinced when he frowned at Niall. “Are you sure?” He reached out as if he wanted to touch Niall somehow, and Niall could feel himself going rigid. Again, Zayn seemed to notice and pulled his hand back quickly. “Sorry.”

_I'm sorry_ , Niall wanted to say. _I'm sorry I haven't let anyone touch me since that damned war, no one but your mother. I’m sorry I can't talk about it and I'm sorry I can't be a real man and stop acting like this._

But he didn't say any of those things, just shrugged. “No harm done. I should probably…leave you to your work.”

Zayn looked down at the ground and then back up again. “Alright. Are you gonna take a walk?”

“Was already on my way back”, Niall explained, already turning around. The way Zayn kept looking at him as if he was about to figure him out made him nervous. “See you, Zayn.”

Zayn's “bye, Niall,” was almost too quiet to be heard.

*

The next time Niall saw Zayn felt slightly more awkward than usual. When he spotted Zayn from afar, Niall even considered turning around but figured that would only make it worse, and he didn’t want to ruin the only thing he had that came close to a friendship at the moment.

They made stilted and awkward conversation for a few minutes and while Niall wasn’t sure if Zayn was generally in a bad mood or if he was just spectacularly awkward, he decided he should probably get to the point to avoid them getting stuck in this odd spot where neither of them seemed to know what to say and they were sort of tiptoeing around each other.

“Listen, Zayn,” he started. “I know I don’t always act the way should, probably, but I don’t want things to be awkward around us anymore –“

“They wouldn’t have to be if you’d act normal,” Zayn snapped and Niall stopped talking, gaping at him. He’d never heard that tone with Zayn. “If you’d just get over yourself and stopped being so bloody _touchy_ , we wouldn’t have a problem at all!”

“I’m not,” Niall tried and – to his terror – felt tears rising in his eyes. “I don’t mean to do any of these –“

“Then don’t,” Zayn interrupted him again. “Don’t you think you’re overdoing this whole thing a bit? You can’t expect everyone to pity you and do whatever pleases you all the time, I know you’re a spoiled rich kid but that’s not how the real world works!”

All of this was so completely out of character for the Zayn Niall thought he’d known years before and had gotten to know again lately, and he had no idea how to deal with it. His words hurt though, maybe because there was too much truth to them, but Niall couldn’t deal with them now. Without another word, he turned around and hurried away from Zayn.

He locked himself into his room for the rest of the day and tried to make sense of what had happened, tried to connect the Zayn he’d seen today with the one he thought he knew, and couldn’t. Maybe Zayn was different now, he had no reason to assume he hadn’t changed since they’d been children. Alone in his room Niall was able to come up with plenty of explanations for his own behaviour too, ones he would never be able to actually say to anyone’s face, and then tried to forget about the whole incident and the stupid idea he’d had, that he could actually find a friend.

For several days, Niall tried his hardest not to think about Zayn but it was hard when Mrs Malik kept telling him where Zayn was going to be spending his day and asking whether he’d like to go see him. And then Doniya gave him a letter from Zayn.

Niall didn’t want to open it, but he couldn’t bring himself to burn it unread either, so he retreated to his room again and stared at the paper long enough for his eyes to water. When he finally opened it, Niall saw that Zayn had filled the whole page with tiny writing and closed his eyes for a minute before starting to read.

_Dear Niall,_

_What I did was inexcusable, but please give me a chance to try and apologise anyway. I am sorry for what I said and what I insinuated with it, and I am terribly sorry for hurting you. I don’t actually think you are weak or not normal in any way. I think you have been through a lot and have trouble with certain interactions that people who have had it easier in life find easier now, too._

_I know it is no excuse for my behaviour, there is none, but you should know that I had been having a terrible day and was awfully tired. I let my frustrations out on you with unfounded and hurtful opinions. I tend to do that, purposely say things that hurt people, when I find myself in a certain mood. I do apologise profoundly._

It continued like that, apology after apology, and Niall read through it all. There obviously had to have been some truth to what Zayn had said, but Niall understood that his behaviour was frustrating at the best of times. Zayn’s apology seemed genuine, if repetitive at times, and Niall sighed, folding the letter up again.

_Please consider coming by while I am working again. I promise that you are more than welcome at any time. I would hate to have ruined your daily walks for you._ Zayn had written at the end, and signed the letter with _Deeply apologetic but hopeful, your Zayn_.

Maybe, Niall thought. He didn’t think he was angry at Zayn, didn’t know if he’d ever really been. Maybe he’d visit him again soon.

*

That night over dinner, which was if they even ate together usually a very quiet affair, Niall’s father turned to him. “How is your knee, son?” he asked and Niall stared at him, more than surprised until Robert Horan continued. “Well enough to accompany me for a tour around the grounds? I’ve heard you’ve been taking walks every day and you should really see everything you’ll be responsible for.”

“I’ve grown up here, father,” Niall said defensively. “I have seen everything.”

“Not with the eyes of an estate agent, which you need to be. Our line can only continue if you keep house properly and make sure the estate can still finance itself.”

“I know, father,” Niall interrupted before his father could launch into his regular speech about how important their reputation was and that they should set an example for other people. Many of them had mismanaged or had had too strong political opinions throughout the last century and consequently lost everything, including their reputations. Niall had heard that speech many times since he got back home, he was pretty sure it was the only thing his father had talked about to him.

It didn’t use to be like that, Niall had very fond memories of his parents from before he went to military school, back then he would’ve said yes without hesitation if someone asked him if they loved him. These days, however, they didn't really seem to care about him, or anything except for the estate. Denise didn’t make it down from her room most days, but neither of them ever asked after her or Theo – who was their grandson after all. Niall thought it was an odd way to grief, and a hurtful one as well.

“I’ll come with you,” he said anyway, nodding at his father. “My knee is getting better, I’m sure I can walk far enough.”

That was the end of their conversation over dinner and Niall quietly hoped the next day wouldn’t feel quite as strange when it would be just the two of them out in the gardens. He wasn’t as sure as he’d tried to sound about his knee either, it was getting better but it definitely didn't feel well again yet.

*

The next morning after breakfast, Niall made his way over to his father's office. He didn't want to bring the cane, afraid his father would think he was making a fuss, so he stopped in front of his door and carefully stretched and bent his knee a couple of times. The faint ache was something he'd almost gotten used to, as it was always there, but he hoped it wouldn't get worse from the exertion.

Finally, he knocked on his father's door. “Ready to go, son?” Robert asked when he opened it.

Niall nodded. “Yes, father. Let's go.”

In the beginning, it wasn't so bad. There was barely any time for awkward silences since Niall's father found things to tell him about wherever they went, stories about money and economising and what to look out for.

“We grow crop over there, where we came from, and this is the vegetable garden. Almost all of it is for our own use, our family and the staff. Remember, son, if you pay your staff in material goods they won't want as much money. What's left over is sold on the market, along with the fruit which we need less than half of, but more about that when we get there...“

By the time they reached the sheep meadow, Niall's knee felt as if someone was repeatedly stabbing him with a scalding hot knife, and it was getting increasingly harder not to hiss too loudly at every step they took. His father wasn't slowing down and Niall followed him past the sheep and to the cows, tried to prolong their stay with the pigs so his knee would at least get a small break and eventually got back to the regular gardens, all the while biting the inside of his cheek to keep his features in check.

To his horror, they'd taken a route that would now lead them up a hill back to the house, along a set of stairs framed by pretty flower beds. Niall took a deep breath to prepare for the first step, but he couldn't have prepared for the pain that shot up his leg the second he set his foot down.

Involuntarily, he cried out in pain and felt his leg give in. When his father turned around, Niall was sitting on the step, clutching his knee and desperately holding back tears.

“What's wrong?” Robert asked.

“It's my knee,” Niall pressed out. “I'll be alright, just need a little break. You go ahead, father.”

His father hesitated, and for a moment, Niall was reminded of how he'd treated him as a child, caring and attentive. But then his features hardened again. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Niall said and tried to sound as if he wasn't about to cry. “I'll be up in a few minutes.”

“Alright. Don't stay too long.”

Niall nodded, gritting his teeth. The moment his father had turned around and disappeared around the corner, he bent over, clutching his leg. He didn't dare touching his knee but didn't know what else to do, except for squeezing his thigh tightly in a desperate attempt to stop the spreading of the pain.

He didn't feel anything but the sharp pain from his ankle up to his hip, but Niall could hear his uneven, loud breathing, see his vision narrowing and all he could think was, _Not again_.

He'd had this before, the trouble breathing, the tight feeling in his chest, the _fear_ \- sometimes he woke up from his dreams with it, but now it apparently happened in broad daylight as well. The tears wouldn't stop coming and Niall desperately wished no one would come along and find him like this. Not that he knew how to get back to the house from here if no one would find him, his leg felt as if he wouldn't be able to walk anywhere, much less up these stairs.

Gasping for air, Niall doubled over and prayed he wouldn't have to throw up again. _Breathe_ , he told himself, but the harder he tried, the harder it got.

It was like through a fog that he heard his name being called and he wasn't able to tell how much time had passed. He couldn't lift his head either or show any sign of recognition, he had no idea who was kneeling down next to him.

“Niall,” the voice repeated. “Niall, can you hear me? Come on, Niall, can you put your head between your knees?”

Something about the way his name was being repeated made Niall feel calmer, safer. Slowly, he tried rearranging his good leg and sitting up enough to do as he was told. “Well done,” his helper said. “Now breathe, alright? Breathe with me, Niall, slowly. Breathe in...breathe out...in...out...“

The voice was calm and soft and Niall listened, tried to suck up the calm with his breath whenever it told him to breathe in, fill his chest with it. Very slowly, he could feel himself coming back, his breathing got easier and eventually evened out.

For a while, Niall kept his eyes closed and just breathed, tried to breathe against the pain in his leg like they'd taught him at the hospital.

The person next to him stayed where they were, mumbling soothing words that Niall didn't concentrate on. He was thankful he hadn't been touched, he knew how that would've only made it worse instead of helping the way the talking had.

Finally, Niall's body seemed to be more than pain again and he moved carefully, trying to sit up properly.

“Better?” the person asked and Niall realised with a start that he knew the voice. Zayn. Who else could it have been?

“Yeah,” he croaked, still not looking up but rubbing at his face instead. “Thanks.” Now that the sheer panic had receded, Niall was terribly embarrassed about the state Zayn had found him in, and the way he had to look. He could feel his shirt clinging to his sweaty chest and back, hair plastered to his forehead. His face was wet too, probably from a mixture of sweat and tears and he didn't even want to imagine the blotchy red colour of it.

“Don't worry,” Zayn said. “It was just luck I passed by.” He hesitated. “What happened?”

Niall didn't answer immediately but Zayn didn't press, which was probably the reason why Niall did talk eventually. It was pointless to keep trying to hide his obvious weakness, Zayn had found him in a right state.

“It's my knee,” Niall said quietly, still not looking at Zayn. “I've been walking with my father, and I suppose I wasn't ready for the distance yet. It just...gave in when we got to the stairs.”

“Where's your father now?” Zayn asked and he sounded curious, but also a little bit accusatory.

“I told him to go ahead and that I'd follow him in a bit,” Niall admitted. “He offered to stay.” Which was...almost the truth, at least.

“When was that?” Zayn questioned and Niall blushed furiously.

“I'm not sure, actually.”

“Alright,” Zayn said with an air of finality and shifted next to Niall, who refused to lift his head and listened to the rustling of Zayn's clothes and the grass as he sat down opposite him. “Niall, would you please look at me?”

Niall didn't move except for a small shake of his head.

“Why not?” This time, Zayn _did_ press. “You don't have to be embarrassed, alright? You've been through some terrible stuff, and your knee must hurt like hell. It's no shame to cry. If this is about what I said the other day –“

“I didn't just cry though, did I?” Niall said, his voice sharper than expected. Suddenly, he was filled with anger again – at himself, mostly. “If it was just the pain, then maybe it would still be understandable, because I have something to prove for it, a scar to show. But no, I break down and can't breathe for some other reason, I'm so _afraid_ all the time when there's nothing there to scare me – I guess I'm not a real man after all.“

“Who said that?” Zayn asked, and he sounded almost angry as well. “Who told you being afraid makes you a lesser man?”

“I...,” Niall stopped, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I don't want to talk about it. I wish you wouldn't have seen me like this.”

“I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about. But you should get back to the house before your parents worry, and you need help.”

Niall didn't say that his father had probably already forgotten he'd left him here, and shook his head. “I can do it on my own.”

“No, you can't,” Zayn said resolutely. “Tell me how you're planning to get up by yourself.”

Niall stared at him with narrowed eyes and moved his leg, looking away again when he hissed in pain.

“See?” Zayn said, but it didn't sound smug. He was _too_ nice about this. “Let me help you.” When Niall didn't react, Zayn sighed deeply and got up. “Come on, Niall, you can't keep sitting here. You need help and I don't think anyone else will come by anytime soon. Is it alright if I touch you?”

Niall looked up at him, still surprised he'd picked up on his unwillingness to be touched in the short amount of time they'd spent together. If there had been any doubt in his mind that Zayn’s apology had been sincere, it was gone now. There was no way around the touching this time, though. “Alright,” he said, bracing himself. “Yeah.”

Zayn bent down to him again, smiling. “Alright, I'll put my arm around your middle now, yeah? Put your arm around my shoulders so I can lift you up.”

Niall couldn't say he liked the sound of that but he appreciated Zayn warning him, so he nodded reluctantly. Zayn smiled again and then did as he'd told Niall, hooking his arm around Niall's middle and pulling him up. There wasn't much Niall could do but follow the instructions too, so he held on to Zayn and helped as much as he could with his other arm and his good leg.

It didn't feel very good. Not even necessarily the touch – Zayn's arm was strong and warm, but careful – but mostly the feeling that came with it. Niall felt useless, like a small child or an old man, when he was supposed to be young and strong. He hated being so dependent on someone, it went against everything he'd been taught and what he thought of himself as well. He'd been taking care of himself for a long time, and suddenly he'd reverted right back to being a helpless person in need of assistance.

“Relax,” Zayn said. “It's okay to accept help sometimes, Niall.”

“Well, you're not the one being carried, are you?” Niall snapped and immediately bit his tongue. Zayn was being so nice and all he did was being rude. “Sorry.”

“It's alright, you’ve got a free pass on at least a couple of stroppy remarks towards me after last time. I understand why you're not happy with this arrangement, so let's get you back to the house, shall we? But for the record, I'm just supporting you. No need for carrying just yet.”

Despite himself, Niall let out an amused snort. “How reassuring. But yes, let's try to get up these damned stairs.”

As expected, it was anything but easy for Niall getting up the stairs, even with Zayn's help. He couldn't bend his knee at all without a sharp pain shooting up and down his leg, so Zayn had to do most of the work, Niall trying to keep all weight off his leg.

It was hard work and both of them were breathing too hard for any sort of conversation, which Niall was thankful for. What else but embarrassing could a conversation be, given the situation?

“Thank you,” Niall panted when they arrived at the top of the stairs and he could see the house behind a stretch of flower beds.  „I can do it from here.”

Zayn frowned and didn't let go of Niall. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Niall asked irritably. Zayn was entirely too close, he was uncomfortably aware of his shirt sticking to the places where he was sweating - including where Zayn's arm was still slung around his middle. Now that they were just standing here, it almost looked as if they were hugging and Niall felt his face go hot again.

“Stop making everything harder than necessary for yourself. I'll get you to the house and if you insist I'll let you go inside on your own. But I won't let you limp all across the uneven path on your own.”

Niall sighed. “You’re not gonna let me convince you otherwise, are you?”

“No.”

“Alright then”, Niall gave in. “To the house.”

“I’ll tell my mother to bring your dinner upstairs tonight,” Zayn said once they’d slowly started walking. “And to make sure your leg is resting and being cooled tonight _and_ tomorrow.”

Niall didn’t protest this time. He knew Zayn was probably right about this, and he kind of liked being mothered by Mrs Malik. She was what Niall’s mother had been like when he was small, and he enjoyed being taken care of.

“No complaints this time?” Zayn asked and his voice was a funny mixture of surprised and teasing.

“Reckon you’re right,” Niall admitted quietly, decidedly not looking at Zayn.

Again, Zayn didn’t take advantage of an opportunity to make fun of Niall. “I’ll come in with you, then,” he just said, “tell my mother about it.”

Niall nodded silently. This whole afternoon was mortifying and all he wanted to do was forget about it as soon as possible. The easiest way, he supposed, was to just let Zayn do as he pleased. It’d only take longer if he put up a fight, apparently Zayn could be stubborn as well.

When they got closer to the house, Niall made a move to let go of Zayn but Zayn’s hold on him tightened. “I’m going in anyway,” he said. “I’ll help you up these steps, too.”

Niall had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t say anything and sent a quick prayer towards the sky, wishing no one would think to look out of the window for the next few minutes.

The steps leading up to the door were just as troublesome as the ons in the garden earlier, and Niall gritted his teeth to keep any possible noises of discomfort in. Zayn was doing his best, but Niall’s knee still hurt every time he so much as jostled it.

When they stood in front of the door, Zayn finally let go of Niall, who had to steady himself on the doorframe as to keep standing. He was exhausted and embarrassed, and wanted to be out of Zayn’s sight as quickly as possible.

“Thank you,” he told him sincerely when they were inside and had to head in different directions. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t passed by.”

“Of course,”Zayn smiled. “It wasn’t a problem. You make sure you get well again, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,” Niall said and tried his best to match Zayn’s smile. It surely didn’t turn out as friendly as Zayn’s, felt more like a grimace. Somehow, the movement felt unfamiliar and Niall wondered when he’d last smiled anything but a tight lipped, small smile so he wouldn’t seem rude.

Zayn smiled once more and then headed down the hallway towards the kitchen - towards his mother.

Niall took the other hallway, leading past the stairway up to the first floor where Niall’s room was. Niall stopped at the bottom, looking up the looming staircase. He had no idea how to get up there.

Taking a deep breath, Niall resolved to get to the small landing halfway up the stairs first. Achievable goals, and all that.

It was grueling. The pain in Niall’s knee flared up as soon as he took the first step and he hissed, gritting his teeth and gripping the railing harder, trying to carry as much weight as he could with his arms. It took him ages to get to the landing and by the time he did, his arms were burning from the exertion as well, sweat running down his face. He felt terrible, ready to start crying again from the pain, the exhaustion and the embarrassment. Even worse, the thought of only having gotten up halfway yet. He wanted to sit down and take a break but knew that he wouldn’t be able to get up again if he did. There was no way he could keep going either, though, so he just stood there, trying to keep the hot tears at bay and to calm his breathing. The last thing he needed was another one of those attacks.

“Niall.” Niall winced. Zayn was back, and he still hadn’t gotten upstairs. He squeezed his eyes shut in the childish hope Zayn would disappear if he didn’t see him. “Come on,” Zayn said softly. “If you’ll let me pick you up, we’ll be upstairs in no time. You’ll only make it worse if you put strain on your knee. I can carry you, it’s the best way, believe me. Will you let me?”

Niall still didn’t open his eyes, but the first tears slipped past his eyelids anyway. It was hopeless, and too late anyway. He’d embarrassed himself enough for the rest of his life today, what more could this do? He just couldn’t do it anymore.

Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded, keeping his eyes squeezed shut.

“Thank you,” Zayn said, and that just didn’t make sense now, did it? “I’ll lift you up bridal style, yeah? Try not to move your bad leg.”

Niall nodded again, felt Zayn’s arm around his back, the other one under his thighs. It was strange how the world tilted when he was picked up with closed eyes, but he had no energy left to yelp. The tears kept flowing, pushing their way past his eyelids and down his cheeks. It wasn’t the now dull pain in his leg, less acute due to Zayn’s gentle grip and careful steps, but the pure mortification paired with his exhaustion.

He didn’t open his eyes until Zayn had reached his room and placed him gently on his bed. “Rest up,“ he whispered. “My mum will come later tonight, she knows. But I won’t tell anyone else, Niall, I promise.”

Niall could’ve sworn he felt his fingers brush along his forehead gently, but when he finally opened his eyes, all he could see through his tears was Zayn’s back as he softly closed the door behind himself.

*

When Niall woke up, pale morning light was shining through his halfway closed curtains and his head was pounding but felt like it was wrapped in something soft at the same time. He had to have fallen asleep shortly after Zayn had left the afternoon before, because all he remembered was turning his head into his pillow to soak up the tears that wouldn’t stop coming.

Hot embarrassment shot up in Niall when he thought about the day before, he could feel it in all of his body. He certainly couldn’t have cut a worse figure, that was for sure.

There was a tray with a cup of tea and some soup – both probably cold now – on his bedside table and Niall thought that he must’ve really been absolutely drained if he hadn’t heard Mrs Malik come in at all.

Someone had also gotten him out of his trousers and put a wet pack around his knee, his leg resting a bit higher than the rest of his body on top of a couple of pillows. Niall didn’t know what he should hope for – that it had been just Mrs Malik or that someone had helped her. The fewer people knew, the better, but the thought of Mrs Malik undressing him made him feel a little uncomfortable as well. She was Zayn’s _mother_ , what would she tell him?

He groaned quietly and tried to sit up a bit, reaching for the cold cup of tea. His mouth was terribly dry and Niall supposed his body had lost a lot from all the sweating and crying - especially considering he hadn’t had a drink since before he went outside with his father. He downed the cup and moved on to the equally as cold soup, more from the thirst than from appetite, he was pretty sure he’d never feel hungry again. All of his insides were taken up by the mortification, there was no space for anything else.

There was a light knock on the door only moments after Niall had settled back against his pillows, considering to pull his duvet over his head and never come out again, and then Mrs Malik came in, carrying a new tray. The urge to hide intensified, even as the woman smiled at him softly when she noticed him.

“You’re awake,” she said. “How do you feel, my love?” Niall just shook his head, not trusting his voice yet and Mrs Malik tutted. “Poor love. It was a hard day yesterday, wasn’t it?”

The sound Niall made was entirely unintentional and sounded enough like a sob to make him flush again and pull his duvet up to his nose. Mrs Malik didn’t seem to mind though, she came closer, set the tray down and then sat down on the edge of Niall’s bed.

“Zayn told me how he found you, unable to walk. And that you still insisted you could do it, even though you obviously couldn’t put pressure on your leg.”

“What else did he say?” Niall asked from underneath his blanket.

“Just that,” Mrs Malik said, sounding surprised. “What else should he have said?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Niall mumbled. “Didn’t you wonder about my...um, crying?”

“Oh, that!” she exclaimed. “No, Zayn told me how hard it was to get you here and in how much pain you must be, so I wasn’t surprised. I’ve seen your knee too, and with how swollen it is I imagine it must be quite painful.”

“Oh”, Niall made. So Zayn hadn’t told his mother anything about the state he’d found Niall in, which meant it was something that stayed between them. He felt a surge of gratitude towards the other boy, then remembered that Mrs Malik was still sitting on his bed. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Of course, darling! Do you need anything else? I’ve brought you some more tea, some breakfast and a new wet pack.”

“I’m not very hungry,” Niall said, whose stomach was still twisting from the soup. “Just very thirsty, so I’ll take the tea, please.”

“I’ll get you more in a minute,” Mrs Malik promised. “And some water, maybe? But first, let’s change this wet pack, alright? We need to make sure the swelling in your knee goes down. I’ll call the doctor in later tonight as well, just to make sure you haven’t sprained anything. And maybe he can give you something against the pain.”

Niall just nodded, slightly overwhelmed. He sipped on his tea while Mrs Malik worked on his leg gently, humming, and eventually fell asleep again before she could get him a refill.

When he woke up the next time, Doctor Campbell was there, talking to Mrs Malik in hushed voices. They both looked over at him at the same time, making it obvious he was the topic of their conversation, and stopped talking when they saw him being awake.

“Ah, Mr Horan,” the doctor said. “How are you feeling? You’ve put quite a strain on that knee of yours, young man.”

“Tired, mostly,” Niall croaked and Mrs Malik rushed to his side to pour him a glass of water. “Embarrassed.”

“You should be,” Doctor Campbell said sternly and Niall blushed. The doctor came closer and started inspecting Niall’s knee, pressing here and there and squinting his eyes a little whenever Niall hissed. “You need to learn to pace yourself, wounds don’t just heal overnight.”

Confused, Niall frowned at him. “You don’t think I should’ve done it by myself?”

“Absolutely not. You can count yourself lucky that the young Mr Malik found you when he did. This could’ve ended much worse than it already did. You do realise you’ve delayed the healing process considerably, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” Niall mumbled, feeling like a small child being chided.

“Well, like I said,” the doctor said, “it could’ve come worse. This way, you’re just going to have to rest for a few days, keep the leg up and cooled and then start training it again. Slowly and carefully, do you understand? No premature hikes or other adventures, light exercising only. When it starts hurting, you stop. Understood?”

Niall nodded, intimidated.

“I’ll watch out for him, doctor,” Mrs Malik piped up, “while he’s indoors. And I’ll ask my son to have an eye on him outdoors.”

Niall bit his lip harshly to keep the groan in that wanted to escape him at that. The thought of having Zayn of all people “have an eye on him” made him feel all sorts of uncomfortable. He’d like to avoid Zayn for as long as possible, seeing him again and possibly repeating their encounter was just about the worst thing he could imagine at this point.

“Thank you,” Doctor Campbell said. “Mr Horan, I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Mrs Malik. Tell her about your progress and if either of you notice any trouble, do not hesitate to call me.”

Mrs Malik and Niall both nodded and the doctor shook Niall’s hand with another stern glance before Mrs Malik lead him out of the room.

Well, Niall thought, this settled it then. He wouldn’t be going out to the gardens again anytime soon.

For a while, Niall stayed true to his word. He stayed in his bed for almost a week, until the swelling in his knee had gone down and it didn’t hurt at the slightest movement anymore. A walk to the bathroom was the furthest he’d go, and those were torture. Even after he got better, though, Niall didn’t leave the house, only trained by walking down halls and the occasional staircase. The only fresh air he got was through opened windows and the balcony with Theo during a few sunny afternoons.

He spent a lot of time with his nephew, relieving his nanny of some of her duties that had to have her overworked, and making sure the little boy was as happy as he should be. Niall knew he’d gotten quite good with him, Theo always perked up when he walked in, willingly handed over his toys to Niall, loved being carried around by him and often cuddled up to him. Niall could hear his brother’s voice in his head, telling his parents to „stop being soft with him! You’re treating him like a girl.” Greg would probably think the same thing about how his brother treated his son, but Niall couldn’t put an end to it. He enjoyed the physical and emotional closeness with his nephew more than he liked to admit, needed it, maybe even. He didn’t have anyone else to talk to, not even Liam, who he didn’t want to bother by complaining in his letters, so Theo became his outlet for everything, and his best friend. It was only sad he couldn’t yet have a proper conversation with him, Theo’s reactions mostly consisted of noises Niall tried to interpret as words.

Niall spent the rest of his time reading the books and essays his father gave him, sometimes an hour or two in his father’s study where he explained things or Niall could ask questions, and once a week with a teacher his father had hired, but most of his study time was spent alone.

Every Sunday, he went to church with his parents but kept his eyes straight ahead, refusing to look for Zayn. He knew he was there anyway, could tell from the stares and whispers of the other people. It was incomprehensible for Niall how a whole village could be this terrible towards and suspicious of a family who’d always lived there. Mrs Malik had been born in the village even, but ever since she’d married Mr Malik, there’d been talk. Now that Niall was older, he didn’t have much trouble putting the pieces together. He’d heard people say Mr Malik’s parents had come from “where they grow tea“, and that he was a heathen. And when they were children, Zayn had sometimes told them they didn’t celebrate Christmas and that God had a different name in his family. Niall didn’t think it was a reason to judge them, found it admirable that all of them except Mr Malik found the strength to still go to church and face all these dreadful people. They didn’t need any more eyes on them, so Niall very intensely didn’t look.

Unsurprisingly, it was getting lonely with no one but Theo for company, and only occasional conversation with one of the staff. Niall spent a lot of the time looking out the window, wishing he could just go out to the gardens again, especially since summer was obviously coming and everything was in bloom. It looked beautiful from the inside and he would’ve loved to take a look up close.

On one of those days, Niall spotted two men, an older and a younger one, at their stables-turned-garage. He knew they’d replaced most of their horses and carriages with modern automobiles, he’d been driven in them by their chauffeur Mr Cullen, but now, watching these two men pull out the shiny automobiles from the dark garage, probably to clean them, Niall suddenly wanted more.

He’d learned how to drive with the military, but it had technically been more of a necessity that he drove their transporters when they were needed to bring more supplies or fill in as an emergency ambulance. He hadn’t really ever been taught, and these fancy automobiles were a different story altogether. What if he learned how to drive them? He’d be fast, he’d be able to feel the wind in his hair – he’d be free.

Maybe it was being stuck inside for so long, or feeling like an invalid since he’d been shot, the limping, the slowness; but suddenly Niall couldn’t imagine anything more desirable than being able to drive their cars by himself. He didn’t even wait until the evening, just limped to his father’s study as quickly as he could and knocked on the big door.

“Come in,” his father’s voice sounded through the thick wood and Niall entered the room.

“Hello father.”

“Son.” Robert Horan sounded surprised. “What can I help you with?”

“I was just,” Niall started. “I was looking out my window earlier today and I saw Mr Cullen with the automobiles and I was thinking, maybe it would be useful for me to learn how to drive them, too.There’s not much else I can do to be of use at the moment, and it would get me out of the house for a bit. And should there ever be a need for it, I’d be able to drive a car properly as well. I’ve learned a little bit already, but I’d like to improve my skills.”

Niall’s father watched him quietly for a few moments. “Well,” he said slowly. “I don’t see why it would be of any use to you, but if it’s what you want I don’t see why I should keep you from doing it either. You can go and ask Cullen if he’s willing to teach you.”

“Thank you,” Niall said sincerely and thought that maybe his father did still love him in his way. “I’ll ask him.”

Too excited to wait any longer, Niall went out to the garage straight from his father’s study. It was a strange feeling to be outside again, even if just for the short way from the house to the garage, exhilarating and a little bit scary. His limp made Niall feel self-conscious, and he was slightly paranoid Zayn would show up, or someone else who’d heard what had happened. But he’d missed the fresh air and the wind and the smells, so Niall tried to concentrate on that. Their chauffeur Mr Cullen was still there, and now Niall recognised who the young man with him was. His name was Sean, he was Mr Cullen’s son, only a year or two younger than Niall and they’d sometimes played together as children.

Sean recognised him too and grinned, not even glancing down at Niall’s leg or the way he was trying to relieve it of any pressure. “Niall, hello! Haven’t seen you around in ages!”

“Good afternoon, Sean,” Niall gave back. “Well, I haven’t really been going out much since I got back.”

“I heard,” Sean started but got interrupted when his father stepped up next to him and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Ah, the young Mr Horan,” Mr Cullen said. His voice was deep and sounded exactly the same way Niall remembered it, still a little bit intimidating. “What can I help you with?”

Niall cleared his throat. He really wanted this, so he’d have to make his argument sound a bit more convincing for the big man. “My father and I thought it would be good for me to learn how to drive your automobiles. Will you teach me, Cullen?” Throughout his life, Niall had been told that he didn’t make enough of a difference between himself and their staff, so he tried to sound as authoritative as possible. It made him feel uncomfortable, to say the least. He’d never called their chauffeur by just his last name, even though his whole family did. But he’d played with Sean, and Darragh, and Dylan when he was a child, and they’d all called him “Mr Cullen“, so he did too.

Mr Cullen raised one of his thick eyebrows. “Reckon there’s not much I can do against it, ey?” he mumbled and then crossed his arms. “Sean, teach Mr Horan here how to drive, it can be your first opportunity to prove yourself. You’re only really able to do something if you can teach it to someone else.”

He turned around and left the two boys alone, Niall feeling awkward and Sean looking the part as well. “Sorry about him,” he murmured. „The older he gets, the grumpier he gets.”

Niall snorted quietly in understanding. “They do that, it seems. What did he mean though, why do you have to prove yourself?”

“Dunno, so he has a good feeling about handing his work over to me? It’s something to do with reputation.”

“Wait,” Niall said. “So you’re becoming a chauffeur too?”

Sean nodded. “My father taught me how to work automobiles, I know how to drive, clean and repair them. In a couple of years, I’ll take over from my father.”

“Are you sure that's what you want to be?” Niall asked carefully. “I'm not making threats or anything, but I'm afraid chauffeur might not be a much needed job in a couple of years. My father - and yours too, probably - might still deny it, but you have got to see it too, us young people, that this style of living is terribly outdated. A house this big, this much staff, I don't see that for the future.”

Sean was silent for a moment and then looked at Niall, eyebrows drawn together. “Are you going to fire my father?”

“No,” Niall said decidedly. “I don't think we could do that after this many years of service. I just think...I, personally, wouldn't be looking for a replacement afterwards, and I don't know who else would. So maybe you should think about other possibilities, there's so much more you could do.”

“But what? I haven't learned anything else.” Sean looked so crushed that Niall almost regretted his well-meaning advice.

“You know what?” he said. “Make a list, think of anything you can see yourself doing, and we’ll find a way, yeah? There’s gotta be something else you’d like to do.”

Timidly, Sean nodded. “Alright, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Niall said and secretly hoped Sean would come up with something he could actually help him with. He wanted to help the boy, but he was a bit scared he’d just promised something he couldn’t keep. “Now, show me what you’ve learned and teach me how to drive these automobiles.”

For the rest of the week, Niall spent almost all of his free time with Sean, learning how to drive in any situation the two of them could think of. They drove up and down winding roads, forwards, backwards, practiced parking, tried how fast they could get the car to go and how long it took to brake again. When Niall had learned all of these things, he only had the official driving test left to pass.

“I’ll have my father sign you up for it,” Sean told Niall. “I think you’re ready, but they’ll have an official examinant come out to test you, and if he thinks so too, you’ll get the official document.”

Despite the official nature of the thing, Niall didn’t feel very nervous about the test. He loved driving and he knew he was good at it. Just as expected, the wind in his hair made him feel more free than he’d ever felt. Even though he knew that wasn’t actually the case, Niall felt as if he left everything behind, all the expectations, his fears, his injury, his too loud thoughts.

It wasn't very surprising when Niall passed the test with flying colours, the examiner giving an impressed nod when they returned to the house and Niall parked the automobile perfectly. “You've obviously got a knack for this, sir.”

“Thank you,” Niall said sincerely and accepted his licence with a handshake.

After the man had left, though, Niall suddenly felt strangely empty. It felt as if he'd lost his purpose, even though learning how to drive had obviously only been a short distraction from his misery. He knew he'd have to work on getting back his strength, or as much as possible with his damaged knee. That, however, meant he'd have to take up his walks again and subsequently heighten the possibility of running into Zayn again. Which he really didn't feel like, considering the heat that still rose on his cheeks whenever he thought about the boy, or rather his own embarrassment.

On the other hand Niall didn't want to return to the state he'd been in after everything had happened, and still wanted to get better. It was torture not being able to sleep, when a bed suddenly didn't represent comfort but fear and pain. Maybe if he'd take it slow and started with short walks it'd work out this time. It was his best shot, his only one probably - if he didn't want to tell anyone. That was something he wanted to avoid though, he was scared he'd be sent off to some clinic that he'd never get out of again. Waking up screaming from nightmares and breaking down crying daily didn't seem like a very healthy thing.

Not today though, Niall thought as he slowly made his way back to the house. He’d take up his walks tomorrow.

*

At the end of May, the war was finally over. There hadn’t been any big fights since the one that had cost Niall his knee, but smaller skirmishes had kept happening and there was always the danger of war flaring up again.

The Anti-Treaty fighters lowered their arms, finally seeing that it would be a waste of lives to keep fighting in a war they’d already lost, and Niall was relieved. He still didn’t care all too much about the political side of things, but at least Liam would be safe.

Ireland would remain its own country – for the price of its northern counties. This didn’t affect Niall. As long as he could still call himself Irish, he’d be alright.

*

It took over a week for Niall to actually leave the house again. He kept coming up with excuses for himself; the weather, Theo needing someone to play with him, the ache in his knee. Eventually, though, he mustered up the courage to open the back door to the garden and take a first step outside, mostly because he felt like he was suffocating if he stayed inside.

His heart was beating strangely fast and Niall scoffed at himself internally. He was making a fuss again. Who was to say he’d even meet Zayn, just because he went out to the gardens? And even if he did, he was a man and he could handle this. He stood above Zayn and he could stand above the embarrassment, simple as that.

Niall wedged his fingers away from his mouth, chastising himself because he just wouldn’t get it under control, this awful biting his nails thing when he was nervous. Or bored. Or whenever, really, it was a problem that Niall couldn’t seem to solve. It came along with his general fidgeting, something he’d heard his fair share of harsh words for in the military. Twitching and shifting didn’t go along with discipline and standing at attention all that well.

With a sigh, Niall started hobbling down the stairs carefully, until he stood on the first terrace right by the house, overlooking a big part of the groomed garden. He couldn’t see Zayn, or anyone for that matter, from here, so Niall decided he’d be alright and limped slowly in the direction of the flower beds. He’d only take a short walk today, starting slowly, but his knee didn’t hurt as much as he’d feared beforehand. This was good, the breeze felt good on his face, so did the sun whenever it broke through the clouds. Summer was almost here, he could smell it already.

Slowly, Niall made his way farther into the garden, not far enough to lose sight of the mansion but just enough so he didn’t feel like it was keeping him hostage anymore. He hated that his home made him feel this way lately, but it hadn’t been the same since Greg died – or maybe before that, maybe as long as Niall leaving for military school. The atmosphere Niall had come home to this time was definitely much worse, though; understandable, obviously, but very unpleasant.

For the first time since Liam’s first letter after his injury, Niall considered a visit with his friend. It’d be nice to see something different again, and to have someone to talk to who wasn’t his doctor or his housekeeper. He missed his best friend, and the war was over.

Even though he’d tried to convince himself he wouldn’t run into Zayn again, Niall almost expected it anyway. He wasn’t terribly surprised when he rounded a corner to slowly return to the house and found Zayn weeding, light shirt wet with sweat on his back and under his arms. He turned his head when he heard Niall’s steps and immediately straightened up, wiping his hands on his trousers and leaving crumbs of dirt on them.

“Niall,” he said.

“Hello,” Niall mumbled, hot flush already crawling up his neck again. “I should...I won’t keep you from your work.”

As quickly as possible, he tried to shuffle past Zayn but the other man wasn’t very helpful, still blocking most of the path. “Haven’t seen you out here in a while,” he said.

“Yeah, well,” Niall stuttered, backtracking a little because Zayn wouldn’t move and they were entirely too close. “Had to rest me knee, didn’t I?”

“How’d that go? Are you feeling better?” Zayn asked, sounding genuinely interested and...concerned.

Niall shrugged. “Alright, I guess. Doctor told me to take it slow so I haven’t tried much yet, this is the first time I’ve come out here since...um.”

Zayn sighed a little and rubbed at his forehead, leaving a small smudge of dirt behind. Niall’s fingers twitched with how much he wanted to reach out and wipe it away.

“I’m sorry about what I said that one time. And I haven’t told anyone about the other day, Niall, like I promised. But I think you should also know that you don’t have to be this embarrassed about showing weakness, that is a normal human trait. Look, here,” he took a step closer, hand extended and Niall had to grit his teeth so he wouldn’t stumble backwards. Zayn didn’t touch him, though, just moved his hand close enough so Niall could see the faint pink scar running from his thumb all across his palm. It couldn’t have been too old, like it had only recently healed for good.

“Happened last autumn”, Zayn said quietly, while I was cutting hedges. Sliced it up all the way. I almost fainted from the pain, my father had to make a makeshift bandage with his shirt and then almost carry me back home to my mum. And I didn’t stop crying until they’d finished stitching me up.”

Niall stared at Zayn a little incredulously. “Yeah?” he breathed.

“Promise,” Zayn nodded. “I’ve seen my father cry as well, and Harry, even Louis. We all do, mate, nothing to hide.”

And the thing was, Niall knew why Zayn was telling him this, but he didn’t _know_. He was giving so much more away than any other man Niall had ever spoken to, used to the harsh conversational tone of the military. It must have shown on his face because Zayn frowned again.

“Look, Niall. This whole concept that only women can show any emotion, especially if it allows ‘weakness’,” he made air quotes around the word and Niall could only stare, “that concept is not only outdated but also plain wrong, has always been. You think the big warriors from past times never wanted to put their heads down and cry? Probably did, because it’s human. Not reserved for one gender.”

“I’ve never heard anyone say something like that,” Niall admitted, shifting a little uncomfortably and twisting his fingers. It felt strange talking to Zayn like this, like he was giving away too much already – even if he hadn’t said anything yet.

“I reckon these views aren’t very popular with your upbringing,” Zayn agreed with a nod. “That’s because these schools try to groom you into some sort of machine. But it hasn’t worked with you, yeah? I know you’re not a machine, Niall, and you know it too.”

Hesitantly, Niall nodded.

“Good,” Zayn said, smiling. “Now that’s settled, you can stop being embarrassed. I understand.”

And those two words, said so sincerely, were what did Niall in. He felt the tears well up in his eyes and looked down at his feet, biting his lip hard enough to taste blood. He hadn’t known he needed to hear them so badly, needed someone to understand this much.

Knowing it contradicted everything Zayn had just told him, Niall fought to keep the tears back and glanced back up at Zayn for a moment before focusing on his shoes again. “Thank you,” he said, fidgeting and pointing a nervous thumb over his shoulder. “Well, I better get back…things to do, you know…”

“I’ll see you around, Niall,” Zayn mumbled and Niall gave a small wave without looking at him, afraid to see the disappointment on Zayn’s face that he could hear in his voice. He just wasn’t ready. Didn’t know if he ever would be.

Head hanging low, Niall slowly walked back to the house.

*

Niall didn’t plan for it to become a thing, but he kept running into Zayn on his daily walk. It wasn’t on purpose, he didn’t think, but whichever route he chose, Zayn was always somewhere there. They never talked for long, Niall usually leaving before Zayn could even think about approaching topics Niall didn’t want to talk about. Still, it was enough for a quick chat every day and to his dismay, Niall was starting to look forward to seeing Zayn, more even than to his walks alone.

This was dangerous territory, he knew that, but for some reason he was unable to turn around whenever he saw Zayn from afar. Instead, he found himself picking up his pace.

Apart from taking up his daily walks again, Niall was trying to keep his promise to Sean, who’d come up to him again shyly one day. “You asked me to think about what I’d like to be instead of a chauffeur,” he’d said nervously and Niall had nodded encouragingly. ”I’ve thought about it for a while, and I think I’d quite like to be a carpenter. If that would be possible.”

“Great choice!” Niall had congratulated him, trying not to show that he had no idea what to do now, who to ask. “I’m sure we’ll find someone to take you in as an apprentice.”

“Thank you, Niall,” Sean’d said. “I’m really grateful for what you’re doing.”

Niall had given him a smile and nodded. “Of course, mate.”

The only thing he’d thought of doing so far was write about it in one of his letters to Liam, asking his friend if he knew how to proceed. If Liam didn’t, Niall figured he’d try to ask someone down at the village, or maybe ask Louis who maybe had contacts since he worked as a fisherman and probably knew many people. Or he’d find Harry, who he still hadn’t seen since coming back. Working in a bakery probably meant he knew the whole village and everything that was going on, so he’d probably be his best bet.

He could probably talk to Zayn about it and he’d arrange everything, but so far he was trying too hard to keep their conversations light and meaningless to ask him for any kind of help.

Niall didn’t think he’d be ready to ask for Zayn’s help with anything anytime soon. It still sometimes seemed as if Zayn was disappointed when Niall immediately steered them away from potential conversations about emotions, and Niall just didn’t understand. He’d never talked about those things with anyone but Liam, no one had ever wanted to. But Liam and Zayn were different, even though Niall couldn’t really tell how. For once, Liam had been around when Niall was a kid, homesick and scared of everything, when it was still sort of alright to show his feelings in front of someone else. They’d gone through that phase together, which made it a lot easier for Niall to open up to him. That wasn’t all of it, though, and Niall hadn’t figured out yet what it was.

Usually the gardens were pretty quiet when Niall took his walks, as quiet as gardens could be with the constant rustling of leaves, chirping birds and all of nature’s sounds, but today when Niall got to the flower garden, there were voices there too. One was Zayn’s, as he immediately recognised to his own surprise, the other one a low drawl that somehow seemed familiar as well.

As soon as he spotted the two people, he knew why – and didn’t even feel very surprised. He’d been bound to run into Harry sooner or later, Niall supposed, and to do so while Harry was with Zayn wasn’t all that surprising either. Most surprising, probably, was the way Harry had changed. He was tall, taller than Zayn and therefore Niall, who knew for a fact him and Zayn were the same size, his face wasn’t nearly as round as when they were twelve and his hair – Harry’s curls had always been remarkable, but now they were proper long, going over his shoulders even.

When he turned around to look at Niall, they even blew in the breeze in a way that should’ve probably looked ridiculous but was actually a bit mesmerising. His eyes went wide when he immediately recognised Niall, hand going up and running through his curls. “Niall?”

“Harry, hello,” Niall gave back. “It’s good to see you.”

“Zayn said you might come by,” Harry said, huge smile on his face that Niall tried to answer, “but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Here you are, though! How are you?”

“I’m...fine,” Niall said, eyes flickering over to Zayn for a moment. He’d taken a step away from Harry and was looking at Niall with a small smile that pulled something in his gut, made him blush. Quickly, he looked away again. “How are you, Harry?”

“Very well, thank you,” Harry smiled, and Niall was distracted by his dimples for a minute. Those definitely hadn’t changed. “D’you wanna sit down?”

Sharply, Niall glanced over at Zayn – who was still looking at him – but the other boy shook his head as if he wanted to tell him he’d kept quiet. Niall supposed Harry could’ve just been referring to his bum knee in general.

“No, thank you. I wasn’t planning on staying long anyway, I won’t keep you.”

“You’re not keeping us, is he, Zayn? Stay for a chat, I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Yeah, stay,” Zayn agreed quietly and Niall could actually feel his resistance crumble. “I’m not that busy today.”

He shrugged a little and ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, then.”

Harry cheered and pulled Niall towards one of the park benches, ignoring Zayn’s quiet warning to be gentle with him and Niall’s rigidness. “I’m so glad to see you, Niall,” he said. “Tell me all about you, what’s changed since we were 12? Have you made friends at school?”

“Well, I reckon pretty much everything has changed,” Niall said dryly, patting his knee as if it was a symbol for all of these changes. “And I don’t really want to talk about most of it. Military school isn’t really a place where you make friends, or at least not if you’re me. Curragh Camp was...not me in many ways. I’ve made one friend, though, Liam, he’s the best. Best friend for sure.”

“Aw,” Harry said a little belatedly when Niall didn’t keep talking. He’d said more than he had in a very long time but Harry seemed to be used to more open conversations. Niall remembered that too, from back before everything, how Harry never held back and told them everything he’d seen and heard and thought and felt. Maybe he’d been like that too, a long time ago, Niall couldn’t remember. He surely wasn’t now.

Zayn was a short ways away, doing _something_ to the plants, probably, but he kept looking over, Niall could tell. Harry saw him look and nudged his side lightly, making Niall flinch. “He cares about you, you know,” he said quietly and suddenly Niall’s chest felt tight, constricted. Like he couldn’t breathe normally.

“I don’t...we - he doesn’t even know me. Not anymore. I -”

“Hey.” Harry’s voice was calm, reassuring. “Alright. Just saying, sometimes it’s okay to let people in, yeah? You’ve let Liam in, and look at your face now when you talk about him.”

That’s different, Niall wanted to say. That’s different because Liam’s my best friend and Zayn...isn’t.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Niall’s breathing didn’t sound quite so shallow anymore and his heart rate had slowed down. He hated it, how his stupid fear and anxiousness always made him look weak. Strange. Different.

Harry didn’t say anything though, didn’t make jokes at his expense, just sat next to him, relaxed and strangely calming. It was odd, how both him and Zayn seemed to just accept whatever was going on with him and knew how to react. On one hand, it was nice, but on the other absolutely terrifying. Mostly because Niall didn’t know what to make of it – and how to react himself.

“Alright?” Harry asked after a while and Niall nodded hesitantly. He was watching Zayn who’d stopped whatever he’d been doing with the plants and came over, sitting down in the grass near them cross-legged.

“I’m taking a break,” he explained, and Niall nodded dumbly. He didn’t know what to say now that he couldn’t seem to avoid an actual conversation with Zayn anymore.

“I saw you driving the other day,” Zayn said. “One of the automobiles, I mean. Did you learn that in school?”

“Uh,” Niall made. “A little bit. Not automobiles, not really, but I knew the basics, like. Sean taught me, though, and now I’ve officially got my driver’s license.”

“Sean?” Harry asked. “Sean Cullen? Are you friends?”

“Um.” Niall wanted to hit himself over the head a little bit for how ineloquent he sounded and cleared his throat awkwardly. “I guess so? We used to be when we were kids, at least.”

“Well, that’s nice of him to help you,“ Harry said, emphasising his words with a nod. “It’s probably good to be distracted a bit.”

“Yeah, I enjoy it,” Niall agreed but the way both of them were looking at him so intently made him a little uncomfortable. It was time to shift everyone’s attention to someone else. “So I heard you’re a baker now, Harry.”

“Well,” Harry drawled, “not really a baker yet. I work in a bakery though, yes. It’s great, very social. You meet all these people and often have time for a chat, I love it.”

“It’s the perfect job for him,” Zayn said. “Not much work, much talking.”

“Heeeyyy,” Harry complained and Niall found himself actually grinning a little bit. “It’s plenty of work, thank you very much!”

Niall listened to the two of them bicker for a while, feeling quite comfortable. He remembered how easy it’d been being friends with them and Louis back when he was a child and could suddenly see it happening again, the four of them. Or at least Harry and Zayn – Louis had intimidated him a bit that one time he’d seen him again.

When the wind picked up and the sky turned greyer, Niall rubbed his hands over his thighs and cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “I should probably go back to the house.”

“Me too,” Harry said. “Or well, down to the village. Don’t want it to start raining while I’m still on my way.”

“I’ll come with you to the house, Niall,” Zayn said and Niall tried not to look scared at that prospect. “I’m supposed to bring these to my mum.” He pointed towards a basket of what looked to be some sort of vegetable to Niall, not that he knew that much about them.

“Alright,” Niall nodded. He wasn't sure what to do once they'd be alone and the walk back to the house would take at least ten minutes from where they were. But he couldn't say that to Zayn, could he? He didn't know how to explain it himself.

They separated from Harry, who thankfully didn’t try to hug Niall the way he hugged Zayn, and then it was just the two of them.

“So,” Niall said.

“So,” Zayn echoed, smiling at Niall.

“Harry’s nice,” Niall tried, desperately looking for something to get a superficial conversation going.

“He is,” Zayn agreed. “Him and Louis are still my best friends. This...Liam. He’s your best friend?”

Niall nodded. “Yes.”

“Where is he?”

“At home, still. Or again, I guess, he’s gone home once the war was officially over. He‘s going back to our school for one more year this summer and then he’ll start his career. Or go to university, depending on what his parents think fit.”

“What about you?” Zayn asked. “You’re staying here, right?” And when Niall nodded, “Don’t you want to go to university?”

“I…,” Niall started, then paused unsurely. “I guess...I probably never really thought about it. It wasn’t – it wasn’t really an option.”

“I mean,” Zayn shrugged. “I can relate to that, it wasn’t for me either. But for you? Your parents could afford it and you’ve gone to school long enough, you could easily go.”

“Well,” Niall said. It was quiet for a minute while he thought about what Zayn had said. “Maybe...my brother went, too, maybe now that I’m supposed to...now that I’m taking his place, maybe I could go, too.”

The thought was sudden and exciting – him, going to university and learning new things, different things. For a moment, Niall felt near ecstatic with the possibility, but it all came crashing down just as quickly as it built up.

Greg went to university in Dublin, so Niall would too, and Dublin – Niall’s chest felt tight, and for a second he could hear the screams again. He couldn’t go back to Dublin.

“Hey, Niall,” Zayn said, sounding worried. “What’s wrong?”

And Niall realised he’d stopped walking, clutching his chest and breathing erratically. He made an effort to relax, slow down his breathing, before it got worse, and Zayn touched his elbow lightly, carefully.

“You don’t have to go,” Zayn said softly. “If you don’t want to. But you could, I’m sure you’d do great.”

“I can’t go to Dublin,” it broke out of Niall. “There’s...I have these, these memories.”

“I understand,” Zayn said and Niall thought, _no, you don’t_.

“I don’t think you do,” he muttered. “I don’t think anyone does.”

Zayn touched his elbow again, didn’t let go immediately this time. “Then help me understand. Tell me about your memories, tell me what’s bothering you. Maybe I can help you.”

“How?” Niall asked, sounding desperate in a way he felt ashamed for immediately. “Of what use would it be? Have you got some secret potion to make me forget...forget the screams? Cause I still hear them, all the time.” His voice broke, but suddenly Niall couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Do you know what it sounds like when a mother loses her child? Or when someone screams in pain until they die? Children who don’t know what happened to their families? I know what they sound like, and I can’t get them out of my head.”

He was pulling on his hair now, subconsciously almost, and there were tears on his face again, even though Niall had no idea when he’d started crying. He was sobbing though, loudly, and he couldn’t stop.

“It’s okay,” Zayn said, hand sliding from Niall’s elbow up to his shoulder and down again. “It’ll be alright.”

It wasn’t, and it wouldn’t, but Niall nodded, tried to breathe through his sobs and slumped forward, no strength left in him. His forehead hit Zayn’s shoulder and Zayn didn’t hesitate, gripped Niall’s arm and wrapped his other arm around Niall’s shoulders, holding him together.

And for once, Niall didn’t pull back, didn’t want to, instead he gripped Zayn’s shirt in his fists and held on, tears soaking the fabric on Zayn’s shoulder.

Eventually, his sobs died down and the tears stopped coming, but Zayn kept holding on and making the shushing sounds he’d used for a while and Niall let him, letting himself be comforted.

When he finally pulled away, he grimaced, feeling awkward. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry this always seems to happen with you.”

“It’s alright,” Zayn said. “I’m glad you’re letting it out at least. This isn’t something you should keep inside, please never hesitate to talk to me about anything, yeah? I’m here for you.”

“I don’t...I don’t usually do this,” Niall admitted sheepishly. “I don’t think I’m very good at talking about...emotions and stuff.”

“There’s nothing to be good at,” Zayn said, “it’s just about opening up, and that takes time. I can wait, though, and I will, for as long as it takes you. Alright?”

“Thank you,” Niall said to the ground and Zayn squeezed his arm once more before finally letting go.

It felt strange, that was for sure, but maybe not entirely bad. Niall felt...relieved, almost, as if some of the weight weighing down his heart had been lifted. Maybe Zayn was right, and talking to someone was all it would take. The problem was that the relief came with just as much embarrassment, and Niall still wasn’t sure he was able to let someone see into his soul like this.

“Don’t freak out again,” Zayn said. “Tell me as much or as little as you want to, whenever you want to. You find me out here almost every day anyway, we have time.”

“I’m not…I don’t come looking for you, or anything,” Niall said, face burning.

“I know,” Zayn reassured him. “That wasn’t what I meant, I just meant we always run into each other out here.”

“Oh,” Niall made. “Well, we do. And…I think I’d like to do it like that, telling you in small portions. I don’t think I can tell you everything at once. Don’t even know what to tell you at all.”

“Take your time,” Zayn smiled. “I just want you to feel better eventually.”

“Thank you,” Niall said again. What did one say to something like that? His face felt hot and there was a strange feeling in his tummy as well, tight somehow, but also fluttery. It was scary, and he was relieved to see the house come into view.

It was silent between them, though, and Niall felt terribly awkward but couldn’t come up with a single thing to say.

At the house, they ran into one of the girls working there. “Oh, Master Niall,” she said, the name they’d somehow adopted for him at the house since he’d told them he didn’t want to be called “Sir”. “A letter for you arrived.” Then, with a shy smile and a look through her eyelashes, “Hello, Zayn.”

“Good afternoon, Shauna,” Zayn smiled back at her and when she blushed, Niall felt something hot and ugly under his breastbone.

“Thank you,” he said rather coldly compared to his usual self, and headed towards the library, where he knew the letter would be laid out for him. It was from Liam, Niall saw when he picked it up, but he’d expected that anyway. Letter in hand, he headed towards the stairs and ran into Zayn again, who was just now making his way towards the kitchen with his vegetables. Apparently he’d had his fun with the girl, Niall thought bitterly and then shoved the thought away angrily. What was wrong with him?

“Niall,” Zayn stopped him. “Are you alright? You seem...off.”

“Fine,” Niall brushed him off. “I just got a letter from Liam, if you’ll excuse me?”

He walked past Zayn briskly, ignoring his confused face, and stalked upstairs without looking back. In his room, he buried his face in his pillows for a minute, breathing deeply and trying to push away whatever it was he was feeling. It couldn’t be good and he wouldn’t be paying it any more mind.

Instead, he opened Liam’s letter and started reading. It was a good distraction, especially since it contained mostly good news: Liam didn’t only offer advice on how to proceed with finding Sean and apprenticeship, he’d already found him one. Apparently one of the carpenters in his local village was currently looking for an apprentice with no offerings from anywhere nearby, so he was willing to take on a stranger from further away. Liam wrote that if Sean would be willing to leave home, he’d come to pick him up soon, and stay for a short visit with Niall. _I haven’t seen you in so long,_ he wrote _, I do miss you terribly. Would you have me for a couple of days?_

This, of course, was good news too, but it was also bad news considering Niall really needed to pick himself up before Liam got here. He would know something was up right away. Niall would have to do his very best to make sure to cover up every little thing that was currently bothering him.

The letter gave him something to do with the rest of his day, he spent it asking his father for permission for Liam’s visit, finding Sean to ask him if he would consider going with Liam and then asking Mr Cullen to let Sean go away to learn. The last one was probably the hardest task, but it was clear that Mr Cullen did love his son and wanted the best for him, so he eventually agreed to let him go.

Sean hugged Niall in gratitude and Niall patted his back awkwardly, feeling very out of place and uncomfortable. For some reason, it felt very different from the hug Zayn had given him in comfort earlier in the day – probably only because of the different meaning it held. Comfort and gratitude were different things, after all. It surely was too much direct contact for a single day though, and Niall was happy when he could retreat to his room.

He wrote back to Liam, thanking him profoundly and inviting him to stay for as long as he wanted to when he came to pick Sean up. _Just let me know when to expect you, so I can prepare everything for your arrival and Sean has time to settle things here, as well._

When Niall went to bed that night, he felt as if this had been the most eventful day since he’d returned home, even more so than the dreadful day he let his father walk him around the grounds.

The following day, Niall waited until after lunch before he went outside for his daily walk, cringing when he remembered how strange he’d acted towards Zayn the day before. He tended to do that, though, if he thought about it – which only made it worse. It seemed unbelievable that Zayn would even still want to talk to him.

He still hadn’t driven him away though, apparently, because Zayn smiled at him the same way he always did when he found him cutting some hedges that afternoon.

“Zayn,” Niall started, before he’d even properly reached Zayn, nervously playing with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’d like to apologise for my behaviour yesterday. I…I wasn’t acting myself.”

“It’s alright,” Zayn said, sweet as ever. He put the big tool he’d used down on the ground next to him, turning to face Niall. “I remember all too well what it feels like. But I understand that you have things to work through and might not always be…charming, maybe. I don’t take it personally, in the hope you don’t mean it that way.”

“I don’t!” Niall hurriedly exclaimed. “I never mean to offend you when I say something, I promise. Sometimes it might sound as if I am but it’s never intended.”

“I believe you,” Zayn assured him. “The same goes for me. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, though.”

“Is there?” Niall asked worriedly, chewing on his bottom lip.

“How’s your knee doing lately?”

“Um, better,” Niall said. “I can walk stairs again and it’s been getting stronger, it doesn’t hurt anymore when I get back inside at night, even after longer walks.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Zayn smiled. “Now, what I wanted to talk to you about has to do with that – I wondered if maybe you wanted to extend your walks a little, just in case you get bored of the regular gardens.”

“Extend?” Niall repeated and noticed that Zayn looked nervous for some reason. “Bored?”

“Only if you want to!” Zayn said, and Niall still didn’t know what he was supposed to want or not want. “I was just thinking that maybe your walks might get boring now, you’ve been through all the parts that are tended to, haven’t you? If you want, we could go to The Jungle some time, and maybe even further behind that.”

“The Lost Gardens?” Niall asked, because he thought he’d caught up with what Zayn was saying and the wild gardens beyond their lawns and flowerbeds had always fascinated him.

“Yes!” Zayn was smiling wide now, eyes sparkling. “I love them, but I reckon you haven’t seen much of them, have you?”

“I haven’t seen them at all,” Niall complained. “I was never allowed to go as a kid. Have you been there much?”

“Quite a lot, yes,” Zayn shrugged. “It’s a good place for, like, thinking, and figuring out things. ‘s why I thought you’d maybe want to go, too.”

“I’d love to,” Niall breathed. “You’d really take me?”

“Of course. Whenever you want.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

Zayn laughed at Niall eagerness but shrugged with one shoulder. “No, tomorrow’s fine. If you meet me by the lower terrace after lunch, I’ll show you the way.”

“Yeah, okay,” Niall nodded breathlessly. “I can’t wait.”

“I can tell, mate,” Zayn chuckled and Niall blushed, scratching at his ear.

In search for a topic that’d relieve him of his embarrassment, he told Zayn about Liam’s letter and his upcoming visit before he made his way back to the house. He couldn’t help but think that this had probably been the most pleasant conversation he’d ever had with Zayn, and he couldn’t really wipe the smile off his face the whole way back.

*

When Niall arrived at the lower terrace the next day, Zayn was already there waiting for him, sitting cross-legged on the grass with a smile on his face. “Ready for the big adventure?” he teased and Niall pretended to shove him, an act that probably surprised himself more than Zayn.

“Feel like my whole life has lead up to this,” he played along and watched as Zayn got up and brushed invisible dirt off his trousers.

“Not joking, mate, it probably has,” he grinned and then nudged his head towards the slope they were standing above, leading down to The Jungle and, behind it, The Lost Gardens that spread almost all the way around the estate. “Shall we get going?”

“Please,” Niall said, and he probably sounded a bit too eager again, but he couldn’t wait to finally get to the part of their estate that he’d dreamed about as a kid. He wondered if maybe he was expecting too much, having imagined what they’d look like for years. Maybe they wouldn’t live up to his expectations. Even if they weren’t quite what he thought they’d be, he was pretty sure he’d love them.

“You’ve been to The Jungle before, though, have you?” Zayn asked when they started their trek downhill along the narrow path.

“As a child, yes, a couple of times,” Niall explained. “I wasn’t allowed to go on my own and my brother rarely wanted to come with, so unless I found someone else to accompany me I couldn’t go. When I was small, it used to be my grandfather who took me.”

“Oh, I remember that,” Zayn said. “You told us he showed you everything down there but by the time we – you, me, Louis and Harry – started playing in the gardens, he was already too weak to go.”

“It was a long time ago,” Niall agreed. “Do you remember how we used to go down to the beach during the summers?”

“I do,” Zayn smiled. “If you want, we can go there too one of these days. It hasn’t changed much but maybe you’d like to see it again.”

“Yeah, we could do that,” Niall said and then amended his words, remembering his vow to be nicer to Zayn. “I’d like that.”

Zayn smiled at him and kept walking, leading them closer and closer to the dark trees where The Jungle began. The plants stood close there, keeping out the light and most of the weather, so the tropical climate could be sustained. From where they were, Zayn and Niall could look down at the Jungle, and Zayn started pointing out different plants.

“This over there, the tall plant, that’s bamboo,” he said. “And back there, those are banana plantations, you’ll see more of them when we pass them. There are many plants in this garden I can’t name, probably not even the people who brought them could. They’ve been brought here for decades, from Jungles all across the world. It’s a miracle they’ve survived and keep growing.”

They ducked past a plant with huge, low hanging leaves and suddenly the air felt humid, settling in Niall’s lungs with every breath he took. It smelled earthy and foreign, and very exciting.

With wide eyes, Niall looked around at the strangely shaped and coloured plants, flowers, bushes, trees – he’d forgotten how _different_ it all was. Zayn didn’t explain much, just pointed out some especially fascinating plants or the ones he knew something about, whether it was about the plant itself or the person who’d brought it here.

Niall, on his part, didn’t say anything, just watched with big eyes, taking in the wilderness. They only spent a short time in the Jungle though, since their actual destination was the part of the Lost Gardens beyond the Jungle.

“This is incredible,” he breathed when Zayn showed him a plant with pink blossoms bigger than their heads.

“I love it here,” Zayn said. “All we do down here is keep the pathways in shape and sometimes dispose of dead wood, but I come whenever I can. It’s another world, isn’t it?”

“It seems it, yeah,” Niall agreed. “You’re almost expecting a monkey to swing down from a tree, or a snake or something.”

Zayn laughed as he led Niall through the Jungle that was slowly thinning out. “I wouldn’t be surprised, that’s for sure.”

They exited the Jungle soon after, crossing an empty field that looked incredibly bleak compared to the marvellous garden they’d just passed through.

“We need this border between the Jungle and the woodlands we’re about to enter,” Zayn explained when he noticed Niall’s frown. “This field is the last part of the garden we do any work at, we keep it clean from plants from either side. It’s necessary so the two parts don’t mix, the Jungle and the Woodlands. It could destroy everything.”

“Oh,” Niall made, surprised. “Well in that case, make sure this field stays this boring.”

Zayn grinned again. “I will. And look, we’re already there.” He made a grand gesture with both arms, walking backwards to face Niall. “Welcome to the Woodlands, this part of the Lost Gardens.”

Wide eyed, Niall took in there once again different surroundings. This part didn’t look quite as exotic, but beautiful nonetheless. It was a forest, mostly, a winding path leading downhill through trees and fresh green grass, moss on rocks and tree stumps, birds chirping everywhere. Niall even saw a rabbit hop off nearby and he couldn’t believe this was theirs, that this beautiful and natural forest still belonged with the rest of their estate.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed and looked back to Zayn who was watching him with a smile.

“I’m glad you think so,” he said. “We leave this completely alone, have done so for thirty years, probably. There just aren’t enough gardeners for it, it’s already a struggle sometimes with just my father and me left. My father told me that all of the gardeners who left for the war in 1914 never came back, some of them having fallen and others just finding new jobs. Since then, the Lost Gardens have grown bigger, because we couldn’t take care of everything, especially since the old Domnall retired about five years ago. It’s not only the woodlands anymore, now, it’s some parts of the pleasure gardens, too. I’ll show you those bits some other time, but I love them too. It’s a bit like a fairytale landscape, with overgrown terraces and summer pavilions. But come on now, if we follow this path, we’ll get to the Lost Valley.”

Niall had never heard Zayn say this much at once, but he really enjoyed seeing this side of the boy. It was obvious he loved these gardens. Without hesitation, Niall followed him.

*

When he got back to the house at dusk, Niall felt achey in the best way, legs sore from their walk without causing him pain. They’d spent all afternoon in the woodlands, strolling through the valley Zayn had led him too, on the lookout for wildlife – which they’d seen plenty of.

Zayn had made Niall smile and even laugh once or twice, and it had twisted something in Niall, making him feel lighter than he had in years, probably. Since the war had started, at the very least. He had a mostly silent dinner with his parents, accepted the books his father gave him to read up on after dinner and then went to check on Theo before bed.

The little boy was already in bed, having been fed and gotten ready by Mrs Rooney, but he watched Niall with his big blue eyes when he entered the room.

“Hey, buddy,” Niall whispered and gently stroked the top of Theo’s head. “How was your day?”

Theo yawned and made a few garbling sounds, too tired to try and form the few words he already could say, but he grabbed Niall’s hand when he went to retrieve it and held on, eyes fluttering shut. Quietly, Niall hummed a lullaby his mother had sung to him when he was a boy, waiting until Theo’s breathing evened out before he pulled back his hand from in between Theo’s small ones.

Whenever he saw his nephew like this, so small and helpless in his sleep, Niall was hit by a wave of love and protectiveness. He didn’t know if he would ever want kids of his own, his feelings towards marriage still somehow distant, but he was sure he’d always feel about Theo this way. He’d make sure the little boy would get everything he needed, even if he was the only one in the family.

Carefully, Niall pressed a soft kiss to the smooth baby forehead and left the room to go to his own. He placed the books his father had given him on his desk and wondered whether he should look at his notes again. His father had hired a teacher, Mr Flanagan, to come once a week to check on Niall’s progress and give him new exercises, but they’d bumped the number of his classes up to two days a week, making sure Niall would be able to take his final exam by the end of the summer. He’d lost a year due to the war and all of his friends would be spending another year at school from September on, but Niall wouldn’t be returning, that much was clear.

He wasn’t scared of the final exam either, he knew he was doing well and probably wouldn’t have much trouble with the questions, but suddenly Niall remembered Zayn’s words about university. He didn’t think he’d be able to go to Dublin, but there were other possibilities. Maybe he could just take some courses and do the work from home, or go to another university. There was one in Limerick, he thought, maybe that’d be a possibility. He’d never been to Limerick before.

One thing he knew for sure, Niall didn’t want to stop learning.

With a sigh, Niall pushed back the thoughts of university and reached for his books. His teacher would come the next morning and he wanted to leave a good impression.

*

For a couple of days, Niall and Zayn didn’t extend their walks again, even though Niall really wanted to discover the rest of the Lost Gardens. He didn’t want to put a strain on his knee either, though, so he’d decided to take it slow and only go with Zayn every couple of days. He still met him in the garden every day.

In the meantime, he got a letter back from Liam telling him he’d be coming for a visit and to pick up Sean on the first weekend in July and that he’d stay for a couple of days. Niall hadn’t seen Liam since he’d been sent home from the hospital three months ago so he was genuinely excited to see his friend again in just over a week. He sent back his agreement happily and went to let Sean and his father know.

On his way back, he found Zayn weeding near the house and stopped to let him know about Liam’s visit, too.

“Oh, I’m happy for you,” Zayn said. “You must’ve missed him.”

“I have,” Niall admitted surprisingly easily. “Do you think we could take another trip to the Lost Gardens before he arrives?”

Zayn seemed surprised at that and let out a startled laugh. “Of course, if you want to. The Woodlands again or were you thinking somewhere else?”

“You told me about the pleasure gardens that weren’t tended to anymore,” Niall said. “Could you maybe take me there this time?”

“Alright, sure,” Zayn shrugged. “We could go tomorrow if you have no other plans?”

His teacher wouldn’t be coming the next day, Niall remembered – when he would, though, Niall would have to ask him if they could move his lecture the next week to a day Liam wasn’t there – so his plans for the day were very limited and mostly flexible. “I have time, yeah.”

“Great,” Zayn smiled. “We can meet by the rose garden? It’s on the way and I have to do some work there tomorrow morning.”

“The rose garden, got it,” Niall nodded. “I’ll see you there.”

“See you!” Zayn gave his little salute again and Niall grinned, something that had started to come a lot more easily lately. It felt good.

Back at the house, Niall found his mother by the window, looking out to where Zayn was still working, back on his knees by the edge of the driveway. „Who were you talking to?” she asked and startled Niall, who hadn’t really thought she’d noticed him at all.

“Oh, one of the gardeners,” he said carefully. “He’s Mr Malik’s son.”

“Oh,” his mother nodded. “I didn’t recognise him. He’s your age, isn’t he?”

“I think so.”

His mother nodded but didn’t add anything. Niall waited for a minute but she didn’t say more, so he turned around confusedly and left her alone. His parents had behaved so strangely ever since Greg’s death. It was like living with two quiet strangers.

When Niall arrived at the rose garden the next day, Zayn was still busy working and he called his name, hoping he wouldn't startle him. Zayn turned around at the sound of his voice, looking apologetic for some reason.

“Oh, Niall,” he said. “You're here. I'm so sorry – we can't go to the Lost Garden today, I haven't gotten everything done yet. Can we reschedule?”

“Sure,” Niall said and tried not to show his disappointment. “I have class tomorrow but I could do the day after?”

“Alright with me,” Zayn agreed. “Oh, and just as a warning: Louis has said he's coming today.”

As if he'd heard the words, Louis appeared round the corner that exact moment. “Niall,” he called. “What a pleasant surprise! Or isn’t it? Are you paying Zayn a visit?”

“I just…,” Niall hesitated. “I was just passing by on my walk.”

He looked over at Zayn to gauge his reaction, but his face didn't change when he nodded. Niall didn't know why he was lying to Louis, there was nothing wrong with Zayn showing him the gardens – and Zayn had probably told Louis anyway. But for some reason, he couldn't admit it.

Louis nodded and didn’t seem suspicious which led Niall to wonder if maybe Zayn hadn’t told him after all. Carefully, he looked over at Zayn again but the other boy was intently studying one of the branches near him, seemingly completely absorbed in the roses.

“Well,” Louis said and looked between them. “Why don’t you stay for a bit, Niall? I was just going to annoy Zayn for a while, maybe you’d like to join?”

Niall grinned and Zayn slapped Louis’ shoulder, jostling him. “Maybe you should stop assuming other people are as annoying as you are. Niall never bothers me.”

Louis grinned wolfishly. “You love me, really. How much time do you two spend with each other, though? Maybe Niall just hasn’t shown his real face yet.”

Niall thought about how he still hadn’t told Zayn much at all, how he shut down each of his attempts to talk about emotions, how he shied away from touch. Carefully, he schooled his features into a noncommittal smile and shrugged. “Who knows? I might surprise you all one day.”

Louis laughed. “I have to say you’ve already surprised me a bit today. You seem different from when I last saw you, better. Do you feel better?”

“Yes,” Niall said, surprised when he noticed how true the sentiment was. “Reckon these walks I’ve been taking have really helped me improve.” He couldn’t help but look over to Zayn again while he talked, because there was no denying he’d had a part in this, too. A lot of the things he’d said had resonated deeply with Niall, he’d given him something to get excited about again – the Lost Gardens – and he’d been the first one to make Niall smile again.

Zayn knew it, too, judging from the way he was staring at the ground, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards. Sudden and intensely, Niall wanted to reach out and touch him right there, press his thumb to Zayn’s lips and bit his own lip harshly to avoid gasping. His face felt hot, burning, and his heart was hammering in his chest – these were bad thoughts, and he had to stop.

“I’m glad,” Louis said and Niall had almost forgotten what they’d been talking about.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. “Actually, though, I can’t stay long today. Should probably actually walk for a little bit longer and then get back to the house. I’m sure I’ll see you soon, though.”

Louis seemed a bit disappointed while Zayn looked mainly surprised when Niall left with nothing but a small wave in their direction, hurrying down the cobbled path.

“Fuck,” he mumbled when he was out of hearing range. “Jesus Christ, fuck.” That all encompassing _need_ to reach out for Zayn had been the most intense thing he’d felt in ages, the way his heart had lurched at the sight of the small smile – it was scary, would be scary with anyone, Niall reckoned, but even more so because it was Zayn.

Zayn, who was his friend, maybe. Who was a _boy_.

The thing was, this wasn’t the first time that Niall had had thoughts about boys he was only supposed to have about girls – it had just never been this intense before. It had been at school, obviously, in the shower, sometimes, or while they were changing for their daily training. Fleeting thoughts mostly, occasionally a strange dream. Before, it’d been easier to push away, to ignore.

It wasn’t easy now.

Niall didn’t want to give up what he had in Zayn, though, no matter how wrong the things he felt were. He’d have to keep him around at least long enough for him to show Niall all of the Lost Gardens, every part there was.

Afterwards, he could start working through this, start looking for a girl to marry. There had to be one out there to distract him from this, cure him. Until then, Niall would just have to ignore it best as he could. It had worked out so far, hadn’t it?

At least he had a while to calm down again, get his thoughts back on track. He’d focus on his work with Mr Flanagan tomorrow, and today – maybe he’d spend some time with Theo, or start revising for his classes. Anything to keep himself from getting stuck in his head again.

*

By the time Niall got ready to meet up with Zayn, he’d mostly calmed down. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t have to fight any sick urges when he faced him. His heart was racing nonetheless when he made his way towards the rose garden. He could hear Zayn before he saw him, humming a melody Niall didn't recognise and Niall wondered briefly if there was anything Zayn couldn't do.

“Niall,” Zayn said when he heard him approach, smiling a little carefully. “Alright?”

“Yeah,” Niall nodded, nervously wiping his palms on his trousers. “Are you?”

“All good,” Zayn said. “Do you still want to come to the Lost Gardens with me?”

“Of course!” Niall exclaimed. “Why wouldn't I?”

Maybe that had been the wrong question because Zayn cleared his throat awkwardly while Niall shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking anywhere but at Zayn. How much had he given away the other day?

The atmosphere stayed awkward all throughout their walk and only dissipated when they reached the end of the orderly part. They ducked through an opening in a wall that might once have been a proper door and Niall forgot all previous awkwardness when he gripped Zayn's arm in excitement.

“It looks just like on the other side,” he breathed. “Only overgrown.”

As far as he could tell from where they were standing there were paths and terraces and flowerbeds just like in their regular gardens, only they hadn't been tended to in what must've been years.

“It looks like this here, at the edge of the Lost Gardens,” Zayn explained, “but the further away you walk, the deeper you get - the wilder it looks.”

Niall's excitement only grew. They didn't wander very far that first day though, only along the edge so Niall would be back at the house by dinner time.

“If you want to explore the furthest parts,” Zayn said, “we'll need more than an afternoon. If you want, we can take lunch with us one day and have a picnic somewhere, we'll be able to see much more.”

In his admiration of the gardens, Niall agreed readily and only questioned his decision once he was back in his room with time to think. It’d mean a whole day with Zayn, away from everyone else, just them and the wild garden around them. Then again, it wasn’t as if Niall would do anything. He wouldn’t know what to, except maybe stare a little awkwardly but he was pretty sure he did that already anyway and he hadn’t scared Zayn away yet.

They hadn’t set a date yet, just agreed that it’d have to be after Liam’s visit because Niall would be busy with schoolwork most days until Liam arrived so he wouldn’t have to spare any of their time together for it.

Zayn had seemed disappointed when Niall told him he wouldn’t be down to the gardens before Liam arrived so Niall had tried to cheer him up.

“Might bring him down while he’s here,” he’d said, trying to seem nonchalant. “He’s gonna want to see how I spend my days, and meet the friends I’ve made.”

Zayn had smiled, then. “So I’m your friend?”

“Course you are,” Niall had mumbled, looking at him from the corner of his eye. “Thought you knew that.”

And Niall thought he could do that easily, be Zayn’s friend. They’d been friends for a while, probably, it had sort of creeped up on Niall. He’d tried pushing it away for a while because Zayn knew too much about him, had witnessed too much – but maybe that was what had made them friends in the first place. What had made Niall feel safe around him, better than he had in a long time.

There were still nights where he woke up screaming or crying, and he still barely slept through. At least he did sleep though, and it didn’t take him as long to fall back asleep as it had in the beginning. Some days he still felt as if everything was pointless, like a heavy weight was pulling him down. Sometimes it was still hard to get out of bed in the mornings, and to do anything but stare out of the window blankly. But those days were few and far between, lately, and Niall felt good enough to face Liam. He wasn’t scared of his best friend seeing right through him anymore.

*

The morning of the day Liam was supposed to arrive came quickly and Niall was up earlier than usual. He checked if the guest bedroom had been prepared, with the kitchen to see if Mrs Malik remembered she'd have one more mouth to feed for a couple of days and with Sean to remind him to start packing.

When Liam drove up the driveway shortly before noon, Niall had been lingering in the entrance hall for a while, waiting impatiently to the amusement and gentle teasing of Shauna and Doniya who walked past him a couple of times doing their tasks. They’d grown more comfortable around him now – Doniya more so, which made sense, Niall reckoned, with her being another Malik child, Zayn’s older sister. They still called him „Master Niall” but apparently had no trouble ribbing him a little for his nerves at his friends’ visit.

Niall pulled the massive front door open before Liam had stopped his automobile – Mr Cullen was already hurrying over from the garage to park it there – and hopped down the steps to greet Liam the moment he got out of the vehicle.

“Niall!” Liam exclaimed and Niall felt himself grin wider than he had in ages, opening his arms for Liam to step into.

They hugged for what felt like a few minutes yet entirely too short for Niall and only separated when Mr Cullen cleared his throat next to them. Niall flushed and took a step away from Liam, feeling a little caught out at this very unmanly show of affection.

“May I park your automobile for you, sir?” Mr Cullen asked a little stiffly.

“Oh,” Liam made and stepped away from it. “Of course, thank you.”

He turned back to Niall as soon as they were alone again, brows drawn in that way they always did when he worried about Niall. “Have I embarrassed you?”

“No, no, Liam,” Niall shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’m just glad you’re here, I really have missed you.”

Liam smiled and reached out to squeeze Niall’s arm once. “And I you.”

“Come in, then,” Niall smiled back. “I’m sure you’re tired. I’ll get you a drink and then show you to your room, yeah? Mr Cullen will bring up your luggage after he’s parked your automobile.”

“Ah, thank you,” Liam said. “A drink would be lovely.”

He followed Niall back into the house, listening to Niall’s explanations and the things he pointed out until they made it to the small sitting room. Niall rang the bell and sat down opposite Liam, noticing how Liam’s eyes swept across his body and bracing himself for what surely was to come.

And really, “How are you?” Liam asked. “You look better than I expected, actually. Although your letters have seemed more cheerful lately as well. Are things improving?”

Niall felt himself nod and shrug in one fluid movement. “I’m feeling alright, much better than I did when I arrived. My knee is still improving and so is…everything else.”

“Your…mood?” Liam asked carefully and something fluttered nervously in Niall’s chest. Sometimes he forgot how well Liam knew him.

He was saved from a reply by Shauna ducking into the room, eyes flitting over to Liam before she nervously reached up to smooth down her red hair. “You rang, Master Niall?”

“Yes, thank you Shauna,” Niall said, trying not to sound too relieved. “Could you maybe get us something to drink? A glass of Mrs Malik’s lemonade, maybe? Mr Payne is thirsty from his travels, and I think I’d quite enjoy one myself.”

“Of course, Master Niall,” she said obediently. “I’ll fetch it right away.”

“Master Niall, huh?” Liam asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Niall muttered, blushing a little. “It's the least terrible thing they're willing to call me, so I'm going with it.”

“Sounds proper grown up,” Liam said. “How is everything going, speaking of that? You adjusting to the role?”

“Slowly. I'm still not overly fond of the whole thing but it's gotta be done and this is my home, so I agree it should be taken care of. Just not sure I agree with all the ways it's been done so far.”

Liam was watching him with a fond smile. “I have a feeling you're going to be just fine at that. A lot is bound to change, already has in the short time of our lives, and I'm you're better suited for dealing with it than the generation before us.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” Niall asked. “How are things with your family?”

“Well, you know my situation is very different from yours,” Liam started and Niall nodded. Liam's home was a big townhouse in Galway, his father of the same profession Liam was going for now, having served in the military all of his life as his father before him. The Paynes had made all of their money by serving the right people at the right time. “Let's just say I don't agree with everything my father says.”

Niall nodded seriously but stayed quiet when Shauna came back with their lemonade. Niall loved Mrs Malik’s self made lemonade and took his glass gratefully, taking a sip while Shauna took her tray and left the room again. “Mrs Malik is a blessing,” Niall told Liam. “You'll see, she doesn't only make the best lemonade, she's also a brilliant cook.”

“You've got a lot of staff, don't you?” Liam asked.

“Not really, not anymore,” Niall disagreed. “At least compared to what a house like this used to have. We've got a cook, a chauffeur, two maids and two gardeners who live at the estate and a few more helpers who come up from the village. Even when I was a child our staff was almost twice as big.”

Liam nodded. “Like I said, things are changing.”

Niall showed Liam to his room a little while later, giving him time to unpack and settle down a little bit. He found his parents in the meantime, telling them Liam had arrived and arranging for them to have lunch together. His parents had met Liam before, the two boys having spent weeks during their summers off at each other’s house, so he wanted to reacquaint them.

The process was a bit awkward because Niall’s parents were so different from what they used to be like and Liam noticed too, glancing over at Niall with his eyebrows drawn again. Still, Niall’s parents seemed to try harder than he’d seen since he returned, making an effort to keep the conversation going which he was very thankful for. They ran out of topics once they’d asked after Liam, obviously wanting to avoid talking about their own situation, so Niall took it upon himself to keep up a constant chatter. He mainly talked about Theo because he was a mostly safe topic and both Liam and his parents – who he still thought didn’t care about their grandson enough – could profit from it.

“I feel like I have to meet the little man now that you’ve told me so much about him,” Liam said and leaned sideways to give Shauna room to clear the table while Doniya brought out dessert.

“Oh, you will,” Niall promised. “He’s probably taking his nap now but we’ll take him off the nanny’s hands in a while, alright?”

“Is he who you’ve been spending all of your time with?” Liam asked with an undercurrent of worry in his voice and Niall remembered how Liam had told him he needed someone who wasn’t a small child to talk to.

“I’ve been spending a lot of time down in the gardens too,” he said carefully, keeping it vague. For some reason he didn’t want his parents to know about Zayn. „Sometimes I meet up with my childhood friends who still live here.”

Liam seemed to accept that and Niall’s parents didn’t say anything, so Niall decided it was time to end lunch. Him and Liam went on a quick tour through the house so Liam would remember where everything was and eventually ended up in front of Theo’s room.

Niall knocked softly before peeking inside, spotting Theo on the floor while his nanny was folding some washing. “Ni-uh!” Theo shouted, which was as close to Niall’s name as he got, and his nanny turned around with a smile.

“Ah, Master Niall,” she said. “I was expecting you.”

“I wanted to introduce my friend to Theo,” Niall explained, taking a step into the room and gesturing for Liam to follow him. “Is that alright?”

“Of course, I trust you with him. How long do you want to stay with him?”

“Could you come back in an hour?” Niall suggested. “I don't want to bore Liam and overwhelm Theo.”

“I don't want to upset either of your schedules,” Liam said worriedly from where he was still hovering by the door, but both Niall and Mrs Rooney waved his worries aside.

“We don't really have a schedule for my visits anyway,” Niall explained and the nanny waved Liam inside.

“Don't be scared,” she said to him and turned to Niall again. “I'll be back in an hour, then.”

As soon as she’d left, Niall strode over to Theo who’d seemingly lost interest and gone back to his toys but immediately lifted his arms and cried out in joy when his uncle turned his attention to him.

“Hello there, little man,” Niall murmured and picked him up, setting him on his hip. Theo clung to the collar of his shirt with one hand and started petting his cheek with the other. “How are you doing today?”

Theo made a series of happy noises and Niall laughed, kissing his cheek. “There’s someone I want you to meet, Theo,” he said, taking a few steps towards Liam. “This is my friend Liam.”

Theo watched the strange man with big eyes until they came to a stop in front of him and he hid his face in the crook of Niall’s neck. Niall chuckled again and rubbed his back soothingly. “He’s nice, lad, I swear. Come on, take a look.”

Eventually, he coaxed Theo’s face away from his shoulder and the little boy watched Liam carefully. Niall sat down on the floor, Theo in his lap, and asked Liam to sit opposite them. He played with Theo the way he always did, taking the toys his nephew handed him and occasionally handing them over to Liam too, until suddenly Theo gave Liam the ball he’d been playing with instead shoving it at Niall the way he had until then.

Liam looked surprised first and then beamed at Niall before carefully throwing the ball back to Theo. The boy squealed, all his fear forgotten and Niall watched fondly as the two of them got acquainted. The way Liam was so careful with Theo and seemed genuinely happy to be accepted by him made Niall happy and he wasn’t able to wipe the smile from his face all afternoon.

By the time Mrs Rooney got back, Theo was sleepily resting his head on Niall’s thigh, blinking slowly but still clinging to Liam’s hand. Niall was running his hand through the soft baby hair while he and Liam chatted quietly.

“Think we tired him out,” he told the nanny with a smile when she spotted them on the floor.

“That’s good, he’ll sleep after I give him his supper, then. Thank you, Master Niall.”

“Thanks for letting us take him,” Niall gave back and stood up carefully, balancing Theo in his arms. “Keep your eyes open, lad. Don’t you want your supper before bed?”

Theo rubbed his eyes sleepily but perked up a little bit when Niall blew a raspberry against the side of his face and Liam tickled his tummy. They left him with his nanny and outside the door, Liam grinned at Niall. “He surely is great boy. I’m glad you have each other.”

Niall smiled. ”Me, too.  For a while, he was the only one I enjoyed spending time with.”

“Not anymore though, right? You’ve found those childhood friends of yours, you said.”

“I did,” Niall nodded. “Do you want to come sit outside with me and I’ll tell you about them?”

They spent the time until dinner on the upper terrace, Liam listening to Niall who told him all about Zayn, Harry and Louis – trying not to worry about whether Liam would find it strange he mostly spent time with just Zayn. Liam seemed delighted to hear Niall’s stories about the Lost Gardens, though.

“I’d love to see them!” he exclaimed. „Do you think we could go while I’m here?”

Niall immediately knew he didn’t want to take Liam to the abandoned pleasure gardens, those were his and Zayn’s and they still had so much left to discover. They hadn’t seen all of the Jungle either yet though, maybe he could take Liam there?

“Only if you want to,” Liam said, noticing Niall’s hesitance. “But I’d love to meet these friends of yours.”

“No, sure,” Niall said, an idea in his head. “I can ask the others if they want to go to the Jungle with us one day, we can make a lads’ day of it.”

“Good idea!” Liam grinned, putting one hand over his eyes against the sun and looking over the gardens. “Can you see it from here?”

“It’s that way,” Niall pointed. “You can’t really see much from here, it’s further down that hill, but those dark, tall trees over there are part of the Jungle.”

“Incredible,” Liam breathed. “I can’t wait to see it with my own eyes, I won’t believe such a thing exists until I’ve seen it myself.”

Niall grinned and got up, standing next to him. “We’ll get it done during your visit. Now, shall we see if dinner is ready yet?”

*

The next morning, Niall got up early and made his way to the garden in search of Zayn. He found him quicker than expected, by the shed where he kept his tools, yawning behind his hand and looking adorably sleepy.

“Good morning,” Niall greeted him after he’d pinched himself as a punishment for his thoughts. “Still tired?”

WNiall, good morning.” Zayn seemed surprised to see him, which Niall had expected. “What are you doing out here this early?”

“I was looking for you,” Niall explained, watching Zayn’s eyebrows jump in surprise. “My friend Liam – he arrived yesterday – wants to see the Jungle. I told him I’d ask you if we could come with you while he’s here, and maybe take Louis and Harry? If you have time, that is.”

“Uh, sure,” Zayn said, rubbing the back of his neck. “The two of them were going to come up here tomorrow anyway, if that isn’t on too short notice? We could leave right after lunch, meet by the lower terrace again?”

“Thank you,” Niall smiled. “That’d be great. I’ll…see you then?”

Zayn smiled and nodded, doing his salute again. “Have a nice day, mate.”

“You too, Zayn.”

Niall could feel Zayn watching him when he turned around to walk back to the house but tried his hardest not to look over his shoulder at him. This happened whenever Niall asked Zayn for something on his own accord, Zayn treated it as if it was something precious and unusual, and Niall didn’t know how to deal with it. Taking deep breaths, he tried to clear his head before he headed back inside.

Liam was already up when he returned, chatting with Shauna while she was serving him tea. They both looked up when Niall came in, curiously looking him over.

“Have you been out already?” Liam asked.

“I’ve made our plans for tomorrow,” Niall announced. “We’re going down to the Jungle!”

Liam whooped and grinned at Niall happily. “I hope it wasn’t too difficult, thank you Niall.”

“Not difficult at all,” Niall promised. “Zayn was the one who suggested going tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait,” Liam said, giddily like a child, then motioned for Niall to sit. “Come on, have breakfast with me.”

Their day was spent out at the garage, meeting Sean before Niall took Liam out for a drive, showing him how far their grounds went, a short visit to the village and the nearby cliffs with their view of the sea and a sprint back to the house when it started raining on their drive home.

They played chess in the library all afternoon, worriedly glancing out of the window at the sky and hoping it’d stop raining before morning.

It did, thankfully, Niall was woken by the sun the next morning. Liam was even more excited during breakfast, chattering about everything. Niall was quiet and let the noise wash past him, simply enjoying his best friend’s company.

The time until their early lunch passed quickly when they spent it with Theo, and Niall laughed at Liam when he could barely sit still while they ate. Liam was excited, Niall however felt strangely nervous. He wasn't sure what to expect from Liam and Zayn meeting, these two parts of his life clashing.

The nerves got worse when they left the house towards the lower terrace, bad enough for Niall to keep mostly quiet.

Liam nudged him lightly. “You alright? Can you walk that far, with your knee?”

“Yeah, course,” Niall said, smiling at his friend. “Don't worry, I've walked that far last week as well.”

“Did Zayn take you?”

Niall nodded. “We saw a small part of the Jungle, but there's still a lot I haven't seen yet.” They could see the lower terrace from where they were now and Niall pointed towards it. “We're almost there, I'm sure the others will get here soon.”

“Niall, are you sure you’re alright?” Liam asked and Niall realised he’d been chewing on this thumbnail and lowered his hand, blushing. “You seem…are you nervous?”

Niall shrugged and didn’t know what to say but the truth – or part of it, at least. “A little? I don’t know, I’ve never introduced friends to each other.”

Liam chuckled and squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Nialler. I’ll be nice to them.”

“I wasn’t nervous about that,” Niall said with a small grin but he was still tense.

Liam shook his head with a fond smile and suddenly pulled Niall in, wrapping him up in a tight hug, tight enough to calm the jitters of Niall’s body. Niall held on tightly and pressed his face into Liam’s shoulder momentarily, once again incredibly thankful for his best friend.

“Niall?” a voice called and Niall pulled away from Liam faster than he could blink. Zayn was stood at the edge of the terrace, Louis and Harry with him and Niall’s face was burning, sure to be bright red.

“Z-Zayn, hi,” he stuttered. “Uh, we…”

Liam squeezed his arm and interrupted him before Niall could embarrass himself further, taking a step towards the three boys, hand outstretched.

“Hello Zayn, I’m Liam,” he said, and shook Zayn’s hand. “Niall told me a lot about you.”

Zayn’s and Louis’ eyebrows both shot up and Niall would have laughed at the synchronicity if he wasn’t blushing so hard he felt as if there was no blood left in the rest of his body when both of them briefly glanced at him.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” Zayn was saying. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Liam gave back and Niall felt so terribly awkward. “You must be Louis and Harry, then.”

Once the introductions were done, Niall’s face had gone back to an almost normal temperature and they could set off. Harry was already chatting to Liam happily, Zayn next to them, but Louis held Niall back a little.

“So,” he started, and Niall expected nothing good. “Zayn’s my best friend, and he used to tell me everything. When it comes to you, though, he’s silent. You spend a lot of time together, don’t you? That much I’ve caught by now, but no one tells me anything around here.”

“Sometimes he accompanies me on my walks,” Niall said carefully. “And he’s been showing me a bit of the Lost Gardens.”

“Oh, he loves those,” Louis nodded. “Look, Niall, I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything, I’m not jealous. I just wondered why you two secretly spend so much time together lately.”

“It wasn’t a secret,” Niall said, heart thudding while he tried to appear calm. “It just never came up?”

Louis sighed. “Yeah, alright. Do you think…do you think I could maybe sometimes come, too? When I’m not working? We were such good friends as children, I miss that.”

Niall smiled at that and reached out, briefly touched Louis’ elbow. “Yeah, ‘course, Louis. I’d like that.”

Louis beamed, pointy teeth glinting. “Great! And by the way, I’m glad to see you’re better.”

Zayn acted as their guide once they reached the Jungle, leading them along the winded paths and pointing out plants much like he had when Niall had come with him. They took a different turn, however, and suddenly ended up above a lake. It was covered with the biggest water lilies Niall had ever seen, light pink and bigger than his head.

Niall gasped in wonder and Zayn turned to grin at him brightly. “I knew you’d like this.”

Niall smiled back at him and took a step forward until he was next to Zayn, their elbows pressed together. “This is incredible.”

“Can we go down?” Liam asked and Niall startled a little, almost having forgotten it wasn’t just him and Zayn.

“Sure.” They took a narrow path further downhill until they reached what looked like a bridge leading around the lake.

“Is this stable?” Harry asked skeptically, nudging his foot against the moist wood lightly. “For all five of us?”

“It is,” Zayn promised. “One of the few things we do in here is make sure this footbridge is stable. It was built because the ground around the lake is too swampy, it wouldn’t be able to carry a human.”

“If we all die I'm blaming you,” Louis joked and Zayn shoved him, pretending to push him.

Niall laughed along with Liam and Harry and suddenly felt almost like a child again, playing with his friends down at the beach. It was a great feeling, light and happy and Niall wanted to hold on to it.

The smile on his face stayed a permanent fixture for the rest of the day, even after he and Liam parted from the other three. Niall fell asleep with a smile and didn’t wake up at all during the night for the first time since he’d joined the war.

*

The rest of Liam’s stay, him and Niall went down to the garden almost every day for Niall’s walk, sometimes meeting up with Zayn and other times just staying the two of them. For Liam’s last evening, Louis had come up with the idea of having a big bonfire instead of dinner.

“We can have a barbecue,” he'd said. “Come on lads, it'll be a laugh.”

Which was how they ended up gathering dry firewood, once again led by Zayn who knew where to find wood that wasn't already stored for winter. “Aren't we just so lucky to have you, Zayn,” Liam teased and Zayn laughed, reaching out to rub Liam's head, hair cropped short like Niall's had been when he was still at military school. It was a gesture as casually intimate as friends were and Niall had to look away, wondering why he had such trouble with a normal human thing.

Since Liam had arrived, Niall had spent more time with Louis and Harry than he had in the time before and he didn’t have an explanation for it. He’d gotten better with social interactions since he’d arrived at the house, that much was obvious. He didn’t flinch whenever someone reached for him anymore, and made a conscious effort not to shy away from touch when he talked to people he trusted. Tried to trust more easily.

As expected, the bonfire was a chaotic experience. Neither of them really knew what they were doing, and they were way too busy talking and playing around to pay much attention to what the fire was doing. However, no one got burned and nothing that wasn’t supposed to caught fire, so Niall counted it as a win.

When the fire had burned down, it was time to say goodnight – and goodbye to Liam. He hugged each of the three boys for a long time, and Niall felt the same way he had earlier, like he was an intruder. Like the four of them already were better friends than he could ever be. This time he had to look away when Harry kissed Liam on the cheek, because it made Niall blush and his head feel dizzy. He’d never seen a man kiss another man, that wasn’t a thing that happened.

When Liam pulled away, Niall could see that he hadn’t either, from the blush high on his cheeks. He didn’t seem to mind much, though. When it was Louis’ turn, Zayn came to stand next to Niall and reached for Niall’s arm, squeezing lightly. He didn’t let go after.

“You alright?” he murmured.

“Fine,” Niall answered just as quietly. “Just sad Liam’s leaving. You all seem to like him a lot.”

Zayn was quiet for a moment, then squeezed Niall’s arm again. “We like you just as much,” he said, and before Niall could wrap his head around that, he’d gone to hug Liam. How could Zayn read him that well? Once again, Niall felt as if the floor beneath him was shaking, but he pulled himself together until Liam and him had returned to the house and he was crawling into his bed.

The little kiss Harry had given Liam was playing on a loop in Niall's head, making him feel dizzy. It had been innocent enough, like a mother kissing her child, but Niall couldn’t help but wonder if Harry kissed Zayn like that, if he’d kiss Niall like that, if _Zayn_ would kiss Niall like that.

That last thought sparked a heat low in Niall’s stomach that he didn’t want there, tried to ignore, except his mind wouldn’t stop spinning and he couldn’t think of anything but Zayn’s lips on him. When Niall finally gave in and reached down the front of his pants, he had to bite his lip harshly to keep the desperate sound that wanted to escape in. He tried to think of the girls he’d danced with when they’d gone out at school, tried to remember what it’d felt like to kiss them, the soft push of their breasts against his chest.

But no matter what he tried, his thoughts kept returning to Zayn, his gentle but strong hands, the way he touched Niall so carefully. The way it had felt when Zayn held him.

It was over quicker than usually and when Niall wiped his hand off, he felt the shame wash over him like a tidal wave. This could never happen again.

*

Liam hugged Niall for a long time when they said goodbye the next morning. “I’ll come again as soon as possible,” he said quietly into Niall’s ear. “But I don’t feel as bad leaving you here when I know you’ve got these great friends to take care of you. Keep them around.”

Niall squeezed him and pressed his face to his shoulder, nodding. “I’ll try.”

When they let go of each other, Liam patted Niall’s cheek affectionately with a small smile. “I’ll miss you, Nialler.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Niall mumbled. “Write me, yeah? And then when school ends we can meet again.”

“Of course,” Liam agreed. “It won’t be long.”

He stepped back to give Sean, who’d been standing by the whole time, room to hug Niall as well, patting his back. “Thank you again, Niall,” he said. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re very welcome,” Niall smiled. “I hope you love it, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Sean nodded and smiled and Liam gripped his shoulder, nodding at Niall. “Shall we go?”

The three of them all nodded and Niall resisted the urge to cling to Liam and never let him go, taking a step back so they could get into Liam’s automobile. “Have a safe drive!”

He stood there watching the vehicle get smaller, hand raised in a wave, until he couldn’t see it anymore. Afterwards, Niall went back inside to sit at his window and wallow for a while but he knew he wouldn’t be able not to do anything for long. His thoughts were already starting to drift in dangerous directions so instead he immersed himself in school work. Mr Flanagan would be coming tomorrow and he thought it’d be best to work ahead a little bit.

It would also keep him away from the gardens.

When his teacher asked Niall if he’d given any thought to university after classes the next day, Niall hesitantly told him yes.

“I think it would be a great opportunity for you, Mr Horan,” he said. “You have potential that you won’t be able to realise fully if you stay here. University would open a lot of new doors for you, you should consider it.”

“Thank you,” Niall said. “I’ll think about it.”

“I have contacts at the university in Dublin,” Mr Flanagan added. “I’m sure you’d be able to go this year if you wanted to.”

“This year?” Niall asked incredulously. “In September?”

“If you want to.”

“Can I…can I think about that?” Niall asked. He was too shocked at the suggestion to form proper thoughts right now, but it flattered him that Mr Flanagan thought of him this highly. Maybe it _would_ be a possibility?

“There’s no rush,” the teacher nodded. “Just let me know when you decide.”

Niall slept restlessly that night, tossing and turning while his mind spun. He was pretty sure he wanted to go to university, wanted to keep learning, but at the same time the thought of returning to Dublin terrified him.

Limerick wasn’t a possibility, at least not this year, because the time to apply was already over and Mr Flanagan didn’t have any contacts working there. So it was either Dublin – even though the thought made Niall’s stomach sink – or waiting a year until he could try for Limerick. What would he be doing here for a year?

And strangely enough, the only person he could think of to talk to about this was Zayn, which was how he found himself sitting cross legged on the grass while Zayn did something Niall couldn't quite place to a bunch of young trees, telling Zayn about his dilemma.

When he'd finished, Zayn was quiet for a minute. He turned around and looked at Niall thoughtfully, then came to sit down on the grass opposite Niall. “You know I think you should do it, right?”

Niall shrugged. “I guess…maybe I want you to convince me? Like, I want to go. But I’m…scared. Terrified, actually.”

Zayn smiled a little at that. “The fact that you can admit that to me now makes me confident that you’ll easily brave Dublin.”

“You think so?”

“Niall, you’re more than smart enough for university and you’ve been through so much already, I know you’re brave enough to face your fears.”

“Brave?” Niall asked. That was probably the last word he’d use to describe himself.

“Absolutely”, Zayn said, emphasising his words with a nod. “Remember how you felt when we first met again, how you acted around other people. You were scared and closed off and looked like you hadn’t slept a wink in weeks. Now you look healthy and you laugh and smile.” He hesitated, then slowly reached out to put a hand on Niall’s knee. Niall stared. Zayn’s palm was warm through his trousers and it didn’t feel like something he wanted to push away, ever maybe. “And I can do this now without having to fear you’ll run away. You don’t even flinch anymore when I touch you. I think Dublin should get ready for you.”

“Thank you, Zayn,” Niall mumbled. “For believing in me. I’ll…I’ll still have to think about it, but you’ve really helped me.”

“You’re very welcome,” Zayn smiled and Niall looked down. “Anytime, Niall, you know that right?”

Niall nodded without looking up, swallowing, and Zayn squeezed his knee – the good one – once before letting go and changing the topic. “Do you want me to show you more of the Lost Gardens tomorrow?”

“I’d love that,” Niall said, perking up. “If you want?”

“Definitely,” Zayn grinned. “I’d even have time for a picnic if you do too? We could go further in.”

“Are you serious? I can’t wait!”

“Can you meet me here at 10am?” Zayn suggested. “I’ll bring food from my mother and we can be out there the whole day.”

“It’s gonna be so great!” Niall said excitedly and Zayn laughed at him a little.

“I’m sure it will be.”

*

When Niall met up with Zayn the next morning, he understood what Liam must've felt before going to the Jungle the other day. He felt like jumping up and down, too, but tried to pull himself together. He'd embarrassed himself in front of Zayn enough for a lifetime.

Zayn was carrying a bag with what Niall assumed was their provisions for the day, but when he offered to carry some because he felt bad that Zayn was doing all the work, Zayn told him no.

“It's not that heavy,” he told Niall, “and it all fits in this bag. Would you want to carry our sandwiches without a bag? I'll be fine, don't worry.”

“Well I reckon if someone knows how much you can carry it should be me,” Niall said airily. Zayn looked at him for a moment, a look on his face as if he had to make sure Niall had just really said that, and meant what he thought he did, then laughed loudly.

“Mate,” he laughed and had to stop walking for a minute. “I cannot believe you’ve just made a joke about that day,” he said once he’d stopped laughing. “It’s like you’re trying to prove how much better you are every day anew.”

Niall grinned back at him. “Sometimes I can’t really believe it myself. But I suppose you had a point when you told me talking about it might help. I’ve talked about what happened more than ever, thought about it – like willingly, not the random memories or nightmares from before – much more too, and it seems to work. Slowly, at least.”

“For what it’s worth,” Zayn said and nudged him lightly with his elbow, “I think you’re doing incredible.”

They took the same path they had last time until they were past an old pavilion with a collapsed roof. They’d taken a right turn last time, but Zayn led them left deeper into the gardens. Niall could tell immediately that this part had been left abandoned for even longer, the paths were more overgrown with moss and grass and the trees had grown half across them in some parts.

It looked magical.

At some point, Niall even had to walk behind Zayn because the path had become so narrow due to the bushes next to it overgrowing it. Zayn didn’t say much except for an occasional direction or a story about a certain plant, just let Niall take it all in.

“We’re going left here”, he said after they’d been walking for at least an hour, reaching out to grasp Niall’s arm when he kept walking for a second. “I want to show you something.”

He pushed away a few branches and suddenly Niall could see a surprisingly well kept shed, or a small cottage. It was built from stone with a proper roof and a wooden door hanging crookedly in its hinges, and a small window.

“What is this?” Niall breathed, taking a careful step closer.

“It used to be a shed for the gardeners,” Zayn explained. “They kept tools and seeds here back before the war in 1914. It was right at the edge of the Lost Gardens back then, they’d just stopped tending to the whole garden a few years before. The part behind this was being tended to until the war. Come on.”

He gestured for Niall to follow him and pushed open the door. Carefully, Niall followed him into the dusty and dim cottage, blinking to adjust to the new lighting. Zayn left the door ajar to let in as much light as possible and grinned at Niall, teeth glinting in the sunlight shining in through the small window. Niall smiled back a little uncertainly. “What did you want to show me?”

“Here, look at this,” Zayn said and turned towards the wall. “Do you see this?”

Niall came closer until he stood right behind Zayn, squinting at the wall. And there, scratched into a big stone, were names. At least a dozen, maybe twenty. He inhaled sharply. “Who were they?”

“They were the outdoor team,” Zayn said quietly. “Back before it was just my father and me as gardeners. There were gardeners, carpenters, stone masons…look, there’s my father.” He pointed at one name in the lower half, _Yaser Malik_. “And there’s the old Domnall. He and my father were the only ones who returned after the war. Dad came back and Domnall was too old to fight anyway, he stayed. Not all of these men fell, but those who didn’t either couldn’t do their work anymore or found something else.”

Niall was quiet, he hadn’t even known there’d been so many men working out here. When the war against Germany had started back in 1914 he’d been a child, not even ten years old. Now, almost ten years later, he suddenly grieved for them.

Zayn must’ve heard his shaky inhale because he turned around, alarmed. “Niall, no,” he said. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to make you cry.”

Niall laughed wetly, wiping under his eyes. “Not your fault I’m such a crybaby. I just…I feel bad, I didn’t even know they worked here and now they’re gone and I can imagine what they must’ve felt, what their families felt. It’s…I can relate.”

“I still didn’t mean for this to happen,” Zayn affirmed, carefully brushing his fingertips across Niall’s cheek, wiping away a few stray tears. Niall hoped it was dark enough to hide the blush his touch left behind. “I thought maybe you’d find this interesting.”

“I did, I do find it interesting,” Niall promised. “Just sad, too. Thanks for showing me, Zayn.”

“I wish it hadn’t made you cry, but you’re welcome.”

“It’s alright,” Niall repeated. “I’ll go ahead outside, yeah?”

“Yes, sure, I’ll come in a minute,” Zayn said and Niall quickly turned around and left, breathing in deeply once he was outside.

His heart was hammering and he touched his cheeks, trying to get rid of the blush. His traitorous body was doing all these _things_ around Zayn, it was terrible.

When Zayn joined him a bit later, he felt mostly normal again and could smile back at him instead of blushing.

“There’s a small clearing on the other side of the shed,” Zayn said. “We could have our picnic there, if you want? It’s probably around lunchtime now.”

Suddenly, Niall did feel hungry and he nodded. “It really doesn’t feel like enough time has passed, but I could eat now.”

Zayn grinned. “That’s what these gardens do to you, right? They make you forget everything else around you.”

Niall nodded. “It should be scary but it just makes me like them even more.”

“I feel the same,” Zayn agreed, leading Niall to the back of the cottage. “I love coming here to think. Nothing clears my head as well as a walk through the Lost Gardens.”

The clearing was just a small meadow that for some reason hadn’t been overgrown by trees and bushes yet, just big enough for Zayn to spread out the blanket he pulled from his bag.

“I don't think I've had a picnic since I was a child,” Niall said, sitting down when Zayn gestured for him to. “What we did during the war or exercises before it started couldn't exactly be called picnic.”

“I haven't had one this proper in ages either”, Zayn said as he started pulling out an array of paper bags. “Mostly just came out here by myself and took a lunchbox. I’ve never taken anyone this far out with me.”

Niall swallowed, picked on a loose thread from his trousers. “Never?”

“No,” Zayn said quietly, then, louder “Oh, this is the lemonade” and pulled out a bottle.

They looked through the paper bags Mrs Malik had packed them, finding sandwiches, chicken pie, sausage rolls and a box with raspberry pie. When Zayn showed Niall the little note she’d put in with the food, they both laughed. _Go and pick some fruit out there, eat healthy! X_

“So,” Zayn said eventually, sounding hesitant. “You don’t have to answer this but what you said earlier, about exercises…do you feel like you were prepared for the war? From what you learned in school?”

Niall lowered his sandwich. “There’s a difference,” he said slowly, “between knowing how to cause an explosion, or how to handle a gun, and doing it knowing you’re most likely killing someone with it. No amount of testing dynamite in the woods around Curragh Camp and shooting at targets from different ranges could’ve prepared me for that.”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn murmured. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“I was never as good at it as the other boys,” Niall said, because apparently a dam had broken and he couldn’t stop talking about it. “The whole discipline, standing at attention, learning how to kill. Everything was always a competition, and the only things I enjoyed learning were the regular classes that barely anyone else liked.” He told Zayn about the strict rules, harsh teachers and arrogant students, all of them judgemental and rough.

“Except for Liam,” Zayn said softly.

“Except for Liam,” Niall agreed. “I think he literally saved my life, wouldn’t have been able to do those six years without him. Or the actual war. There were moments where I was so sure I wouldn’t be able to go on, take a single step ever again. But Liam pulled me up and made sure I didn’t get myself killed.”

“I’m glad he did,” Zayn said and Niall smiled at him a little watery. He felt out of it a little bit, wasn’t sure how long he’d talked for and when they’d finished all their food, but it was gone.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Didn’t mean to chew your ear off about this, I’m sure you didn’t want to hear all of that depressing stuff.”

“Remember how I told you to talk to me if you wanted?” Zayn asked. “I never retracted that offer. I like listening to you, and I like knowing it helps you.”

And it did help him, Niall knew that. Even just talking about it, having put these thoughts into words, felt like such a heavy weight had lifted from his shoulders – or his chest, maybe. Breathing already seemed easier.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the Lost Gardens, making their way halfway around the estate before Zayn led Niall back to the garden he knew. Escaping the narrow paths, steep stairs carved into rocks and plants reclaiming their space felt like waking up from a wonderful dream to Niall. He stood at the edge of the garden and had to blink a few times, feeling Zayn watching him.

“It feels unreal, doesn’t it?” Zayn asked.

“Magical,” Niall breathed, then cleared his throat. “Those gardens are absolutely magical. Not that the kept gardens aren’t beautiful,” he added quickly. “Just…different.”

Zayn laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended – I feel the same way. Now, shall we go so we’ll be home before sunset?”

Niall looked at the sun, low in the sky, then up to the house he could see again now, still some ways away, and nodded. “Should probably.”

*

When he woke up the next morning, Niall was sure he wanted to go to university. He wanted to go badly enough to be willing to face his fear about going back to Dublin.

When he told Mr Flanagan about his decision, his teacher clasped his shoulder and squeezed it once. “You won’t regret this, Mr Horan,” he said. “I’m positive it’s the right decision for you.”

“Thank you,” Niall said sincerely. “I think so, too.”

“You might have to talk to your father,” Mr Flanagan added. “I suggest we meet every Monday to Friday for at least five hours for the next month so you can take the admission test and be sure to get in.”

“You think I can do it?”

“I know you can, Mr Horan. With the right work ethic, that is.”

“I can do five days a week,” Niall said. “I’ll speak to my father tonight and have him telephone you, if that’s alright?”

Convincing his parents that university was the right step for him was a bit more complicated than Niall had expected. Apparently he’d underestimated how important it was to them to have a son in the house, and how scared they were he wouldn’t be returning.

He promised he would and listed every advantage he could think of for him, for them, for the estate and eventually convinced them – or maybe wore them down with his talking enough for them to agree to take on Mr Flanagan five days a week and let Niall do the admissions test.

Niall almost skipped down to the garden the next day to tell Zayn about his decision and the opportunity he’d been giving and found the other boy as quickly as usual.

“Reckon we won’t be seeing much of you down here, then,” Zayn said, but his eyes were crinkling when he smiled.

“Why won’t we be seeing much of him?” a voice asked and both Niall and Zayn jumped, turning to find Louis walking towards him.

“He has to study for his university admission test,” Zayn explained. “Isn’t that incredible?”

“Very impressive, young Mr Horan,” Louis grinned and patted Niall’s back. “Congratulations.”

“I knew you could do it,” Zayn smiled and Niall blushed, running a hand through his hair.

“Thanks, lads.”

“Will you still sometimes make time for us?” Louis asked. “I was thinking we could maybe go down to the beach one day, the four of us. If that’s still a possibility?”

“I have Saturdays and Sundays off, I’d love to,” Niall said, remembering that Zayn had suggested something similar once.

“And you’re coming as well Zayn, like old times,” Louis added, looking at Zayn sternly. Niall watched them confusedly. “There’ll be enough of us to save you from drowning.” He then turned to Niall. “Zayn is scared of water, you know. He can’t swim.”

To say Niall was surprised was probably an understatement. Not only had Zayn never mentioned this fear of his, he had even suggested going down to the beach himself, which was more than a little odd. Zayn looked embarrassed. “Thanks, Louis.”

“Someone had to warn Niall,” Louis shrugged cheerfully. “And no discussions.”

“I’ll come,” Zayn said grumpily. “Would’ve come more happily if you’d kept your mouth shut.”

Niall grinned and Louis just raised one eyebrow Zayn’s way. “I can’t believe you’ve preached to me about how I need to open up about my fears while you’ve kept that from me the whole time,” Niall teased and Louis beamed at him. His approval felt pretty great to Niall and he grinned back.

“I can’t believe you’re on his side, Niall,” Zayn pouted but the crinkles by his eyes didn’t disappear and Niall knew Zayn wasn’t actually mad.

“The only right side,” Louis proclaimed and threw an arm around Niall’s shoulder, an action that would’ve had Niall at least flinch only a couple of weeks ago. Now though, he slowly lifted his own arm and wrapped it around Louis’ waist. Zayn was full on smiling now and Louis squeezed him once before letting go.

Niall felt good.

*

First, however, Niall dove into school work head first. He didn’t only study with Mr Flanagan when his teacher was there in the mornings, he also caught up on his reading and practiced with exercises in the afternoons. He rarely had time for more than a quick chat to Zayn on the walks he still took every day, making sure his knee didn’t act up.

Even the weekends seemed busier when there was suddenly so much to think about and organise. If he’d be admitted to university in Dublin, he’d be leaving at the end of August – a date that seemed all too close. If he’d fail his test, he’d have a year to prepare for his second try. Niall didn’t want a second try.

He was able to clear his schedule on the third weekend, though, arranging to meet Harry, Louis and Zayn at the top of the stairs leading down to the beach early on Saturday morning. He arrived there at the same time as Harry, who was waving at him excitedly from afar. Niall waved back, glad to see him again.

Like Niall, Harry was already in his swimsuit, his one brown with the typical white stripes at the bottom where it reached down to his mid-thighs. Niall still remembered how long swimsuits had been when he was a child, even men’s going down to their knees and far less revealing at the top. Niall’s own navy blue swimsuit showed off his shoulders and back much more than his mother had found decent, but she just didn’t know anything about fashion. Secretly, Niall had never been as happy about a shocked gasp as he had been this morning. At least it was a reaction from his mother, more than he usually got.

Still, he found it a bit strange himself to be hugging Harry in their current state of undress but the other boy didn’t seem to mind, pulling him right in with both arms. What else could Niall do but hug him back?

They chatted while they waited for the other two to arrive, catching up about what they’d been up to since they’d last seen each other. Harry had mostly worked, it seemed, and helped prepare his sister’s wedding. “It’s in two weeks,” he said. “Everyone is going crazy.”

Niall laughed quietly. “I remember that from my brother’s wedding as well, how stressed everyone was.”

“How’s your sister-in-law doing?” Harry asked carefully and Niall could feel the smile slide right off his face.

“She’s…” He sighed. “I don’t really know, she doesn’t leave her room and I’ve only been to see her a few times in the beginning. She doesn’t react to anything and the nurse we’ve got taking care of her told me to let it be.” It wasn’t the whole truth but close enough, Niall figured. A sunny day at the beach wasn’t the time for a conversation like this anyway.

“I’m sorry, Niall,” Harry mumbled. “I’m sorry for all of you.”

Niall had probably never been that thankful for Louis showing up as he was when he did just in time to save him from a reply. He liked Harry, he truly did, but he really didn’t want to talk to him about his dead brother or his wife. He swallowed and turned to wave at Louis, throwing an apologetic smile Harry’s way.

“How genuinely unsurprising that Zayn isn’t here yet,” Louis said instead of a greeting. “Hello Niall, I’ve missed your face.”

Niall chuckled. “Been busy, haven’t I? I’ve missed you, too.”

“How’s your school work coming along? Are you still enjoying it?”

“I am,” Niall grinned. “Even though I seem to be an exception.”

“We can’t all be this brilliant, eh?” Louis grinned back and ruffled his hair.

Niall blushed what was probably a vibrant shade of red and mumbled, “Shut up.”

Harry laughed delightedly and tugged him into a hug. “I’m so happy to see you like this, Niall.”

Niall smiled into Harry’s shoulder and hugged him back. He’d probably gotten more hugs in the past few weeks with these boys than he had in the years before.

“Why is there cuddling happening without me?”

Niall recognised Zayn’s voice immediately even from how far away he was calling and pulled away from Harry, turning towards where it was coming from. And there he was, walking towards them in a black swimsuit that accentuated his shoulders nicely. Something in Niall’s tummy tightened.

He could tell Zayn had been joking, he obviously had, but Niall didn’t really care – he took a few steps towards Zayn who was looking at him confusedly, then opened his arms and arched an eyebrow.

Zayn grinned and looked surprised instead of confused, but happy, Niall thought. “My own personal cuddle?”

And then he stepped right into Niall’s arms, tucking his face against Niall’s neck and wrapping his own arms around Niall’s middle while Niall closed his around Zayn’s shoulders. He fit better than Niall really liked to think about so he let go sooner than he wanted.

Zayn smiled at him wide enough for his eyes to crinkle all the way, which sort of made up for it.

They walked down the steep path down to the beach then, steps carved into the cliff. From up there, Niall could see the small sand beach and the waves rolling into the bay, the sound making him smile. He'd always loved the sea, loved that the sound and smell was never completely gone in his home even if the house stood quite some way away from it.

Down at the beach, they spread out their beach towels next to each other and unpacked the rest they'd brought. This time Niall brought the food and drink prepared by Zayn's mother, while Louis had brought a football and Zayn a thick book.

“Don't get it wet, mate,” he warned Harry and the other lad pouted.

“Why are you telling me, specifically?”

“Because I know you,” Zayn teased and both Niall and Louis snorted.

“You two be careful, too,” Zayn warned them sternly and Niall nodded dutifully. He knew how expensive books were.

Harry waited until Zayn had put the book down again and then bent over, throwing Zayn across his shoulder like he weighed nothing. Zayn yelped loudly and clung to Harry before he seemed to realise what was happening and started hitting Harry's back.

“Put me down, Harry!” he yelled over the sound of Louis’ and Niall's laughter.  “Don't you dare!”

“We'll never get you into the water today if I won't,” Harry said cheerfully and promptly jogged off to the sea, Zayn squirming hopelessly on his shoulder.

Niall very carefully placed Zayn's book in his bag, then looked up at Louis who was still standing there, watching him. When their eyes met, Louis’ widened and he opened his mouth to say, “Don't even think about -”

Before he could finish, Niall had already grabbed him, admittedly less graceful than Harry, and stumbled down to where Zayn was still struggling and shouting until Harry dumped him into the cold water and he shut up.

Niall started giggling when Zayn reappeared, looking like a disgruntled wet cat, and had to drop Louis before they'd reached water deeper than to their thighs. Louis still complained loudly, his splashing making Niall wetter than the waves lapping around his legs.

He splashed back and accidentally hit Harry with most of the water who yelped at least as loud as Zayn had earlier and fired back, which led to all four of them having a massive and very passionate water fight.

Being in the water was quite the exercise for Niall's knee though, so he decided to get back to the beach with Zayn instead of going for a swim with Louis and Harry once their fight died down. The water was terribly cold so Niall was glad it seemed to be one of the few really warm days of the year, the sun already heating the sand underneath their feet when Niall and Zayn padded back to their towels.

They dried themselves off in comfortable silence and lay down side by side, Zayn starting to read while Niall closed his eyes, head resting on his arms and thoughts wandering. The sun was warming his back and he could hear the rhythmic sounds of the sea, making him sleepy. For some reason, his mind returned to the conversation he'd had with Harry that morning, and then the words were already spilling from his lips, eyes still closed.

“I told everyone Denise hasn't said a word since I got home, that she doesn't react to anything.”

Zayn was quiet but when Niall blinked his eyes open he was watching him attentively. “I told everyone that, but I lied.”

He swallowed and wiped across his eyes once, taking a deep breath. “The first time I went to see her was right after I'd gotten home, the first day I could get up. I went to her room because I hadn't seen her since Greg had died and I thought she might want to see me, her as his wife and me as his brother. Her nurse let me in but warned me that she wasn't well, but I still didn't expect it to be this bad. She looked like a ghost, Zayn, a shadow of the woman I knew. I didn't think there was any strength left in her but she sat up and...and started shouting at me.”

Zayn inhaled sharply and when Niall looked at him, he'd sat up. Water was dripping from his hair down on his shoulders and his eyes were fixed on Niall. “What did she say?” he breathed.

“That she hated me,” Niall said and his voice shook. “That if one of us had to die it should've been me, that no one would miss me. Said it was all my fault and she wished every day it was me who was dead, not my brother.”

“Niall,” Zayn said, sounding helpless and a little bit shocked. “Niall.”

“I didn't go back after that,” Niall continued. “Her nurse said it was too much of a strain. But I thought she was right, you know? Still sometimes do. It'd be better if it had been me, I don't have anyone, no wife, no son -”

“Don't say that,” Zayn interrupted him fiercely. “You have me. And the other lads, Liam. You have Theo and your parents and so much more to give to the world. I'm not saying it's alright that your brother has died but it's neither your fault nor would your death be any less devastating. Don't put this on yourself, you hear me, Niall?”

Hesitantly, Niall nodded. “I don't…I don't really think that way very often anymore. It was worse in the beginning, but I know I couldn't have changed anything.”

“You're going to university and you're going to be the best leader Kylemore House has ever seen,” Zayn said. „You're going to change so many more lives for the better, there's no way you should've died in anyone's place. Your place is here, and you're going to leave your mark.”

“No one believes in me the way you do,” Niall whispered.

“I'll do it for anyone who's stupid enough not to see how brilliant you are,” Zayn said. “But would your teacher be doing this if he didn't believe in you? Would your parents be paying for him if - argh!”

Harry was standing over them, shaking his hair like a dog and getting the cold seawater everywhere. “What are you two whispering about so intensely?”

“None of your business,” Zayn said with just enough edge for Harry to huff and turn back to Louis. Zayn looked at Niall and nudged his arm lightly with his fingers. “You alright now?”

“Yeah,” Niall mumbled, deciding not to mention the anxiety still bubbling in his chest. It didn’t feel like it was clawing its way up Niall’s throat anymore, so maybe he’d be able to suppress it until he was by himself. “Thanks.”

Zayn narrowed his eyes at him and suddenly got up without another word, turning towards where Louis and Harry were now playing beach tennis, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting over to them. “Niall and I are going for a walk, we’ll be back in time for lunch!”

Louis made a distracted gesture their way and promptly missed the ball, yelling agitatedly and focusing on the game while Harry just ignored them. Zayn looked at Niall, eyebrows raised. “Come on, then.”

Niall scrambled to his feet, confused but not protesting. He had an idea what this might be about, and maybe it was for the best. Silently, he followed Zayn who climbed over a couple of rocks that separated their small beach from a long and narrow stretch of beach along the bottom of the cliffs. Zayn kept walking and Niall could feel the lump in his throat growing again, watching Zayn’s back and not being able to believe someone cared about him this much, knew him this well.

A hiccup escaped him and Zayn spun around to look at him, face softening. He reached for Niall before Niall could form any sort of coherent thought about what he needed but Zayn knew anyway, wrapping Niall up in a hug that he immediately knew was the only right thing.

He hiccupped again, a few stray tears escaping while he tried to focus on Zayn’s breathing.

“Breathe with me, Ni,” Zayn murmured and Niall did, forcing the panic rising in his throat back until it dissipated and left nothing but the tears behind. He cried into Zayn’s neck, telling him about all the guilt and the fear he’d felt since his brother’s death. He wasn’t sure Zayn could even understand what he was saying but he made soothing sounds and rubbed Niall’s back the whole time and Niall felt understood.

“I wish you wouldn't feel this way,” Zayn said once Niall's crying had stopped and he was pulling away from Zayn rubbing across his eyes. It was embarrassing to think he'd just cried on Zayn's skin when there was no shirt covering his shoulder, just the strap of his bathing suit. “I wish I knew how to make that feeling go away.”

Niall shook his head. “You're already doing so much more than I could ask for.”

“Good thing you don't have to ask.”

“Thank you,” Niall repeated.

“Don't worry about it,” Zayn said sincerely. “Just work on getting better, yeah? A lot of people care for you a lot.”

They eventually made it back to their towels, Niall with red eyes but a much lighter heart. He wasn't sure what had brought on his breakdown but to him, it just proved he wasn't fixed yet.

Harry and Louis didn’t comment on their disappearance or what Niall must’ve looked like, and he was able to actually enjoy the rest of the day, having a picnic on the beach and playing all sorts of games while Zayn sometimes begged off so he could read his book. Mostly though, it was all four of them together and Niall felt at home.

The next week, Niall was too busy with studying to do anything else, as his admission test was coming up on Friday. The nerves were finally hitting him now that there was actually something on the line with that little time to prepare for but Liam had sent him a letter wishing him luck and the other boys had asked him to meet up with them on Thursday evening.

When Niall left the house after dinner, he was already more fidgety than usual and his heart was beating faster as well. His palms were sweaty and there was a constant stream of questions in his head, ones Mr Flanagan had given him to prepare – regularly intercepted by questions like _Will I be able to pass this test? What if I don’t pass this test?_

Niall was terrified, to say the least.

It was Louis who hugged him first this time, taking one look at him and furrowing his brows worriedly. “You’ll do just fine, Nialler, stop worrying,” he said fiercely and Harry reached across Louis’ shoulder to smooth out the wrinkles on Niall’s forehead. It made Niall smile.

“We just wanted to wish you good luck”, Zayn said when Louis let go of him, and Niall kind of wished he'd hug him now. He didn't, though. “And to make sure you weren't driving yourself crazy in there.”

“I wasn't,” Niall lied, and all three of them snorted.

“This isn't a question of luck for you, by the way,” Harry said. “You know you can do this.”

“We’re just trying to bring your confidence up,” Louis explained.

“Thanks, lads,” Niall mumbled and thought that maybe they had a point. He'd studied an awful lot, after all.

“We're all gonna be crossing our fingers for you tomorrow,” Zayn promised but Niall protested.

“You better not!” He pointed at Zayn. “You'd cut your fingers off with those big garden scissors you always carry around and you, Louis, you'd probably fall of the fishing boat and drown, so neither of you is allowed to do anything stupid with your hands.”

They all laughed at that. “We'll be doing it mentally, then,” Zayn amended. “Even though you won't need it.”

When they parted not much later so Niall would get enough sleep, he felt better and much more confident than before. “That’s what friends are for,” Harry had said and ruffled his hair affectionately, and Niall had believed him.

*

When it was over, Niall didn’t know what to do with himself for an hour. He sat on his bed for a while, staring at his hands and then got up to try and put his thoughts into words in a letter to Liam.

“You’ve done exceptionally well, Mr Horan,” Mr Flanagan had said after Niall had handed in his test and he’d looked it over quickly. “That much I can already say. I’ll have to take it to Dublin for some professors to look over it, but I don’t see why they shouldn’t be thrilled to accept you.”

His teacher had told Niall the university wanted to hurry the process along since the semester would be starting in three weeks already, which was why he’d be taking the trip to Dublin and was expecting to be back by Monday. “With your admission, Mr Horan, I’m confident. Well done, you can be proud of yourself.”

Niall didn’t feel proud yet, though, mostly shell-shocked. The pressure he’d felt over this test had been with him for long enough for him to feel lost now that it was gone so suddenly. He’d already told his parents and his father had cracked a smile while his mother had even hugged him, which Niall absolutely hadn’t expected, especially after their hesitance to even let him take the test.

“We’re proud of you,” his mother had said and Niall had had to bite his lip harshly and swallow so he wouldn’t start crying.

_Reckon I will write my next letter from Dublin_ , he started his letter. _Dear Liam, it seems like I’ve done it, or so my teacher says._

He managed to write the whole letter before dinner and put it with the rest of the post Shauna would be taking down to the village with her when she left tonight. Doniya was serving dinner tonight and when Niall walked in, she smiled at him a little shyly.

“Master Horan,” she whispered. “My brother asked me to give you a message.”

“Zayn?” Niall asked and then coughed, trying to cover up the excitement lacing his voice.

She nodded. “He wanted me to congratulate you on your test –“

“How did he know I passed it?” Niall interrupted her quizzically.

Doniya giggled. “He said you’d ask that. He told me there was no way you wouldn’t pass it. You did, then?”

“Yeah,” Niall grinned. “I mean, as far as my teacher said. I don’t think he’d say it, though, if he wasn’t sure.”

“No, I think that means you’ve done it,” Doniya said with a genuine smile. “Congratulations. From me as well.”

“Thank you, Doniya.”

“He also wanted me to tell you to meet him by the rose garden tomorrow after noon?” She seemed shy again but Niall nodded.

“Alright, thank you. If you see him you can let him know I’ll be there and if not – he’ll see me, I guess.”

Doniya giggled again. “I’ll tell him if I see him, Master Horan.”

The way her eyes crinkled reminded Niall a lot of Zayn, many of her mannerisms did, and Niall tried very hard not to compare whose smile he liked more. There was only one of the siblings who made something in his stomach swoop.

*

“There he is!” Zayn shouted as soon as he saw Niall approach the rose garden. “Congrats on passing your test, mastermind!”

Niall laughed. “That could’ve been very awkward if I hadn’t actually passed it.”

“I knew you would,” Zayn said with a shrug and a smirk, coming to a stop right in front of Niall. “Also, Doniya told me.”

Niall laughed again and held on when Zayn swooped in for a hug. He almost let go when someone nearby started cheering but Zayn’s hold only tightened and didn’t deter Harry and Louis at all, they just turned the hug into a group hug.

“I’m friends with a genius,” Harry cooed and kissed Niall’s temple, squeezing and inadvertently pushing Niall and Zayn even closer together.

Niall blushed bright red. “Shut up, Haz, I’m hardly a genius.”

“And he’s modest, too!” Louis cheered and poked Niall’s side, letting him know they were just teasing. “We’re just so proud of you.”

“I wish Liam was here,” Zayn suddenly said. “He’d be going mental.”

“Aw, yes,” Harry agreed. “He’d be the proudest of us all.”

Niall started telling them about the letter he’d sent to Liam and the three of them finally let go of him, giving him a chance to speak normally.

“I suppose he won’t be coming here again before you leave?” Louis asked and sounded a little bit sad. Niall smiled at that, thinking about how the two of them had been cautious around each other first, seemingly opposites when it came to their characters but had quickly found out they were much more similar than they’d thought. He thought that out of all of them, Liam had probably gotten along best with Louis by the time he left.

“When are you leaving?” Harry wanted to know.

“The weekend after next,” Niall said. “If I get admitted, which I haven't been officially.”

“You will be,” Zayn said firmly.

“That's so soon,” Harry whined. “I'm going to miss you terribly.”

“I'll miss you too,” Niall said. “But I'll be coming home for all sorts of holidays.”

“I'm counting on it.”

“I'm really thankful for this summer,” Niall said, looking down at his hands. “Without you, I probably wouldn't be where I am now. Certainly not about to go to university.”

All three boys reached for him at the same time and Niall found himself in another oddly nice group hug that he didn’t want to end.

“We love you too, Nialler,” Louis said and yeah, Niall supposed that was what he’d meant to say.

That evening, before Niall went home, Zayn pulled him aside. “Meet me here again tomorrow morning? I can bring a picnic again.”

Niall grinned but kept his voice just as quiet. “The Lost Gardens?” And when Zayn nodded: “I’d love to.”

Zayn’s fingers brushed his elbow lightly and Niall certainly didn’t feel his heart doing a somersault.

*

The part of the Lost Gardens Zayn took him to this time wasn’t much different from what they’d already seen. They started behind the farm where the sheep were kept, ducking into the woods there. From there, the paths littered with roots, fallen branches and leaves led them into what had obviously been pleasure gardens before they’d been abandoned.

“This looks like our Italian Garden!” Niall exclaimed when he walked past Zayn holding back a branch and into a closed off garden. It was surrounded but walls on each side, with a basin in the middle, now filled with rain water. There was a terrace with a canopy and a few barely recognisable statues, brittle and mossy, but it still bore an uncanny resemblance to the Italian garden Niall knew to be his mother’s favourite.

“I think this used to be the Greek Garden,” Zayn said, pointing over to what might have been a palm tree once. “It essentially looked the same, from what I could tell. Maybe those statues are Greek and not Italian, but who can really tell the difference?”

Niall pointed towards a pillar that definitely looked different from the ones in the Italian garden. “Aren’t you the one interested in art?” he teased, remembering how Zayn had once said something along those lines. “This looks Greek to me.”

“I’m more interested in paintings, I think,” Zayn chuckled. “But you’re right.”

They took a small break on the steps leading up to the veranda, watching the leaves float around on the muggy water.

“It’s a bit sad, isn’t it?” Niall murmured. “Those abandoned gardens? It looks like someone just stopped caring. And I know that’s not the reason, but sitting here it seems it, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Zayn hummed. “Suppose you’re right. But it also has something beautiful, don’t you think? It’s lonely and broken, but still somehow beautiful.”

“Devastatingly beautiful,” Niall whispered and Zayn smiled at him, nudged his forehead against Niall’s shoulder lightly once.

“Come on then,” he said standing up. “Let’s get moving before we fall into deeper sadness.”

He extended his hand with a grin to help Niall up and Niall took it, almost had to pry his fingers away when he stood. Zayn’s hand was calloused and felt just the right mix of soft and rough in Niall’s.

Maybe it was a good thing he’d be gone in two weeks, Niall thought. This was going too far.

He’d surely be missing these gardens though, in the big city. Both the cared for ones and the Lost Gardens with all their magical places, Niall thought when they found another small pond by the path and stopped for a minute to watch the ducks who’d found it and claimed it as theirs. The wildlife and the farming, Niall would miss it all.

They sat down for their picnic in the middle of a clearing they’d come across only minutes after Niall’s stomach had grumbled loud enough for Zayn to hear and turn around. “I feel like that’s a clear signal it’s lunchtime,” Zayn had laughed and Niall had agreed.

The contents of Zayn’s bag were pretty similar to their last picnic, and this time Niall took care to enjoy every bit he ate, since he still couldn’t really remember eating anything last time.

“Tell me about what you, Harry and Louis got up to while I was at school,” Niall requested after his first sandwich.

Zayn chuckled. “Oh, Louis was a menace. Still is, I reckon, but he has to act grown up most of the time now. When we were younger, not as young as we were before you left, he would prank everyone. He once made his own mother believe she'd ruined a whole load of washing by dyeing it pink, can you believe that?” Niall could and he said so, laughing.

“How did he do it?” he wanted to know and Zayn explained it, which brought him to another prank and so one funny story was followed by another until Niall felt as light and bubbly with laughter as the lemonade they were drinking.

“You have the best laugh, did you know that?” Zayn asked suddenly and said laughter died in Niall’s throat as he stared at Zayn in shock. The other boy was watching him calmly, expression soft. “No, really. I’ve noticed it more and more lately, you laugh with your whole body. It’s the best thing.”

“Zayn…,” Niall said weakly, petering off because he really didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t look away either, though.

Zayn laughed and shrugged a little sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just…like seeing you laugh.”

The thing was, it felt much less uncomfortable than it should to Niall. _That_ was the problem.

“It's alright,” he managed to say, looking around for anything that could spark up a conversation. “Do you want this last piece of cake?”

“You can have it, my stomach wasn't the one growling loud enough to be mistaken for a thunderstorm”, Zayn said, Niall giggled and just like that, all awkwardness seemed forgotten.

Niall was laying back on the blanket eyes closed and humming along to the song Zayn was singing, when a loud grumbling drowned out their voices.

“Mate,” Zayn said and Niall blinked up at him, noticing the sky was suddenly overcast. “I hope that wasn't you again.”

He'd barely finished talking when a lightning bolt lit up the grey clouds and startled Niall. “Shit,” he mumbled. “Can we go back?”

„Yeah, of course,” Zayn said, worriedly glancing up at the quickly darkening sky. “It's probably best if we go back to where we came from last time, it's not far from here.” He started gathering their things and Niall quickly stood too, helping him.

“I feel like I brought this on with my joke about thunderstorms earlier,” Zayn quipped but Niall only chuckled weakly. “Hey, Ni, you okay? Are you scared of thunderstorms?”

Niall shrugged, biting his lip. “I never used to be. Guess it's the noise and the flashing lights, they're...similar.”

“I'll get you somewhere safe,” Zayn promised, squeezed Niall’s arm once and slung his bag over his shoulder. “Come on.”

Zayn was walking fast, Niall stumbling after him and jumping every time it thundered. Zayn kept throwing worried glances over his shoulder at him and eventually slowed down, holding out his hand to Niall. Niall took it gratefully, this time distracted enough not to think about it too much past the point of how it kept him from tripping and being left behind.

When a huge drop landed on Niall’s forehead, he yelped and Zayn cursed under his breath.

“Wait, we should get to the shed for shelter instead,” he suggested. “The one with the names I showed you, you know? It's much closer than the house, we can wait there until this storm stops.”

“Alright,” Niall nodded, wiping new raindrops from his face. “Let's go there.”

Zayn blinked funnily when a raindrop hit him right above the eye and Niall giggled, gripping his hand again. “Quick!”

Raindrop followed after raindrop and soon it was pouring down, making everything slippery, the ground, Zayn's hand in Niall's, and Niall felt high off it, laughter bubbling up in his chest while Zayn pulled him along, laughing too. “We haven't had this kind of rain in ages,” he panted and Niall laughed, shook his head.

“I can't remember ever being caught in such weather.”

“Sorry I dragged you into it,” Zayn said but Niall just squeezed his hand, recognising the path they were on now, it wasn't far anymore.

“How would you have known? You're no weather oracle, are you?”

For some reason, that made Zayn laugh harder again but they were running now, close enough to the little cottage to make out the shape through the trees.

They were both out of breath, gasping for air when they broke through the trees and Zayn pushed open the door, still laughing. He leaned back against it to close it against the rain and wind, breathing as hard as Niall.

“How's your knee?” he asked and Niall noticed two things at the same time: that Zayn was wet, and that their fingers were still tangled.

“Fine,” he panted, eyes flitting from Zayn's wet hair, some of the longer strands clinging to his forehead and cheeks, to the way his drenched shirt was clinging to his body, leaving nothing to the imagination, and then back to his face when he noticed he'd been staring, cheeks flaming.

Zayn was watching him too, quiet now, the only sound in the shed their harsh breathing and the wind and rain beating down onto the roof. Niall very deliberately pulled his hand back and wrapped his arms around himself.

“Niall,“ Zayn whispered, sounding hesitant, and there was water clinging to his eyelashes and a single drop fell from his jaw onto his neck, leaving a wet trail behind until it disappeared under his collar.

Niall followed it with his eyes when really it was his mouth he wanted to put there, feeling hot all over. Zayn shivered, maybe from the rain – and maybe not.

He had Zayn pressed up against the door within a second, a pretty gasp escaping from his lips and leaving them slightly ajar. Zayn's mouth was hot and pliant under Niall's and his fingers pressed harshly into the skin at his sides, pulling the shirt free and getting his hands underneath, running across the skin on Niall's back. It made Niall gasp and he pushed closer, their bodies aligning in the most perfect way and that was Zayn's _tongue_ , licking across Niall's bottom lip and suddenly he needed more, wanted to taste and map out the insides of Zayn's mouth. It was all he could think of and Zayn let him, pushing one of his thighs between Niall's and rocking up in a way that made Niall see stars. He pulled back just enough to latch onto Zayn's jaw, letting his tongue follow the traces the raindrop had left behind until Zayn whined and pushed their mouths back together. Zayn’s hair was wet but still soft when Niall ran his fingers through it, pushing his hips down against Zayn’s and swallowing the noise Zayn made.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed when it suddenly thundered loudly again and Niall startled enough to stop kissing Zayn.

Everything seemed to slow down then, when Niall’s brain slowly started to catch up: Zayn, flushed and breathing hard, lips a puffy red, Niall’s hands on him – one in his hair and the other at the side of his neck.

Niall pulled back as if he’d been stung, his hands were shaking and his chest felt so tight he could barely breath, his whole body cold while his head felt hot enough to explode. Zayn lifted a hand as if to reach out for him but Niall stumbled back, bringing as much space between them as was possible in the tiny cabin. “This is wrong,” he muttered. “We can’t –“

Zayn’s face fell and he took a step towards Niall. “Please, Ni…”

“No,” Niall interrupted, gasping for air. “No.”

He was out the door quickly, sprinting through the rain while Zayn’s voice calling out for him sounded further and further away. He wasn’t sure where he was, couldn’t see a thing with the rain and his tears stinging in his eyes but he didn’t stop, just kept running blindly. Niall almost welcomed the burning in his chest, the pain that came with not being able to breathe. He deserved it, along with the scratches on his body from the branches that hit him as he ran past.

He was still crying too, helpless sobs echoing through the woods around him. What had he _done_? It had been a sin to think about Zayn that way, but to act on it was worse. They’d committed a crime, and Niall wanted to bang his head against a tree trunk if he thought it’d get the sickness out of his system.

There was only one option: he’d have to leave, go to Dublin as soon as possible, and find a way to cure himself. There had to be ways, and a big city was probably the best place to start looking.

Niall knew what they’d done was wrong, and yet he couldn’t get it out of his head, the way Zayn’s body had felt pressed against his, under his fingers. It had felt like breathing freely for the first time but it couldn’t be. It was wrong. It was sick and wrong and Niall needed to _stop_.

He wasn’t sure how he found his way back, but when he stumbled past another row of trees, he could see the house in the distance. Niall pressed his hands to his eyes roughly, willing the tears back and ran across the lawn towards the house. His knee was throbbing, but not bad enough for him to stop running, and he knew he must’ve looked terrible with his muddy and wet clothes, unruly hair and scratches all over his skin, eyes swollen – lips too, probably.

By some miracle, he was able to sneak up to his room without being seen by anyone. Niall locked the door behind himself and sunk to the floor right there, back against his door, and started sobbing. He sat there until every bone in his body felt stiff and he had no more tears left to cry, his whole face feeling raw. Slowly and aching, he dragged himself to his bathroom to run a hot bath, more than thankful for the running hot water that they hadn’t had in every bathroom when he was a kid. Mrs Malik had run them the baths and the thought of her made him cry again, dry sobs this time.

After his bath, Niall felt completely drained and empty inside, falling into a fitful sleep full of shapeless dreams about damnation. When he woke up, he felt even worse than before, but he’d made up his mind. Mr Flanagan would be back with his admission today, and there was only one thing Niall could do. He had to leave for Dublin right away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Four years later**

 

The feeling Niall got driving up to the house was the same he got every time he’d gone home since leaving for university four years prior. A mixture of dread, embarrassment and excitement, maybe. Excited to see Theo, and even his parents. The thing he dreaded and what he was embarrassed about – well, it’d been years, he should be over that by now.

The nerves were a bit stronger this time, though, because the last letter his mother had written had worried Niall a little bit. She'd written how relieved she was to know he was almost done with his studies and would be coming home soon, which Niall read as a clear order not to spend most of the summer in Dublin with his friends as he usually did.

He’d been home as little as possible during the past four years, only came home for a week each summer to let his father tell him about everything that’d been happening with the estate and for the biggest holidays like Easter and Christmas. And for Denise’s funeral two years before.

His sister-in-law had died from a broken heart, so everyone said, and her nurse had just found her one morning, still in her bed. Liam had once very carefully asked Niall if he knew whether she’d chosen death and helped it come a little bit, but the truth was that Niall didn’t know. He’d come home for the funeral and his parents had told him how her nurse had found Denise on a regular Tuesday morning. If he was honest, Niall wouldn’t be surprised if her death had been her own work. His brother’s death had done something terrible to Denise.

The only good thing that had come from her death had been the fact that it seemed to have shaken his parents from the stupor they’d fallen into after Greg’s death. They’d finally started getting more involved with their grandson’s upbringing and even showed more interest in Niall again. Still, Denise’s death had been a shock for them all.

Niall stalled the automobile but remained seated for a moment, looking up at the big house he called home. It still felt that way, sort of, even when he’d only spent a total of a few weeks here in the past four years.

His mother was waiting for him by the entrance when Niall bounded up the steps to the front door.

“Good afternoon, mother,” he said, greeting her with a kiss on each cheek.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” she said and Niall tried very hard not to let the term of endearment worry him. Maybe she’d just really missed him, and she’d gotten much warmer towards him again over the past few years. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“So am I,” Niall smiled and it felt almost genuine. “Where’s father?”

Maura hesitated and that was all the confirmation for his worries that Niall needed. “What’s wrong? Is he alright?”

“He’s...Will you come inside first?” Niall let himself be dragged into the foyer by his mother and looked at her expectant and worriedly. She took a deep breath and reached for his hand. “Your father is ill, Niall. He’s very weak, and Dr Campbell says he most likely won’t recover completely.”

Niall swallowed thickly. So that explained it. He’d already started looking for things to do in Dublin that’d keep him from going home yet, but that clearly wasn’t an option anymore. His father was ill, dying maybe even, so it was Niall’s responsibility to stay here and do what was expected of him as the heir. And it wasn’t as if he _wanted_ to be away while his own father lay upstairs in that state, he really didn’t. They’d become somewhat close again, as close as was possible when his father came up to Dublin about as often as Niall went back home – maybe three times a year.

“Maybe you’ll want to see him?” his mother suggested. “He can still…he’s the same way as always, just weaker.”

“Yes,” Niall nodded. “I’ll just take my things up to my room and go to see him immediately.”

“Let Cullen do that for you, you’ve just gotten home.”

“It’s alright, mum,” Niall said softly and bent down to kiss her cheek again. She seemed fragile and even smaller than usual. “My room is practically on the way there already.”

The truth was, Niall knew that Cullen was almost as old as his father and he didn’t want to bother the old man when he was perfectly capable of carrying his own luggage. His knee hadn’t acted up at all in years and he’d gotten used to the dull ache he felt constantly.

It also gave him a few minutes to gather himself before he’d have to face his father, find out what exactly was wrong with him. Niall felt like he needed it.

Upstairs, he saw a head full of dark hair disappear around the corner and thought _Doniya_ for a second until he remembered she’d stopped working at the estate years ago to get married, as had Shauna. Only one girl had been hired as maid to replace them, the youngest Malik girl, Safaa.

She was sweet, from what Niall had seen, and awfully young. Only fifteen, he thought, and already doing the work that had once been done by a whole group of maids. She was kitchen and housemaid in one, and mostly her mother’s assistant.

Safaa reminded him a lot of Doniya but less of their brother than her sister had, which he was thankful for. He didn’t need anything else to remind him of _him_.

Niall sighed. There he was again, thinking about the whole thing as soon as he was back home instead of focusing on the situation at hand. His father’s illness.

Right. Niall vowed to get to the stage he’d eventually gotten to in Dublin: where Zayn wasn’t more than an itch in the back of his head, some dark corner, that only came out when you poked at it. It’d be a lot harder here, with all those memories, where every place and every person was like a stick poking relentlessly.

Niall rubbed his temples tiredly. He was really quite scared what was expecting him in his father’s room. He’d deal with…the rest some other time.

*

All things considered, it could’ve been much worse, Niall thought. His father didn’t seem that much different to him, except for the fact he was in his bed and apparently didn’t have the strength to get up. He did however expect that to be only temporary, he really couldn’t imagine his father letting himself be bound to bed for long, no matter what he or his mother said.

“You’ll be my legs and eyes from now on,” his father had said and then sighed wistfully. “I suppose it’s best this way, at least you’ll get better insight than you ever would’ve otherwise. And you’re back here, your mother has missed you.”

“So have I,” Niall had said quickly, feeling bad. He knew he hadn’t exactly been the son they’d wished for. In a way his going to university had caused exactly what they’d been scared of, only that it wasn’t really university that had caused it, but Niall’s own stupidity.

His father’s words had made Niall thoughtful again and when he left him to rest again, he returned to his own room instead of seeing his mother. The thing was, Niall had loved university, had loved Dublin. Had loved who he could be in the city.

It had taken a long time, but in Dublin Niall had finally found who he thought he wanted to be. He’d discovered he wasn’t actually sick and that there were other people like him. Bressie was a good few years older than Niall and had quickly become Niall’s mentor in more than just his classes. He shared both his anxiety and his taste for men, even though Niall had eventually figured out that he was still interested in girls, just not as much.

“You’re not sick, Niall,” Bressie had told him. “And neither am I or anyone else who fancies someone the same gender. We’re different from what is considered normal and that scares people so they resort to calling us sick, and who we love wrong. You can’t listen to them.”

And slowly, Niall had accepted it. His acceptance didn’t make it outwardly easier because it was still considered a crime to “engage in homosexual actions” and he thus had to keep it secret, but at least it stopped his self loathing. Which in turn had eased his anxiety, so Niall had a lot to be grateful to Bressie for.

Getting over Zayn had been no easy task, though, no matter what Niall had tried. He’d gone out with plenty of girls and even sometimes let Bressie take him to the secret bars and clubs he preferred where he did occasionally kiss a bloke and even on one memorable occasion got off with one, but none of them had made him feel the way Zayn had.

Bressie hadn’t understood why Niall had to forget him, why he wouldn’t try to be with him.

“Because he’s from home,” Niall had said. “And I can’t be with a man there. I’ll have to find a nice girl to marry and give grandchildren to my parents.”

“But…,” Bressie had made confusedly and pointed a thumb over his shoulder back to the bar they’d just emerged from, “what about them?”

“They’re a distraction,” Niall had said, because wasn’t it obvious? “To forget him so I can find said girl.”

And it had seemed obvious to him, then. Just as it had seemed like he’d gotten over Zayn whenever he’d stayed in Dublin long enough. But now, back here in his childhood room, Niall’s palms got sweaty and his heart started racing at the thought that Zayn was closeby and that he might actually see him again now that he was back for good.

Niall sighed and sat up abruptly. He wanted to avoid his thoughts drifting towards Zayn while he was in his bed so he got up and walked towards his door, shaking his head. He needed to stop this whole thing before it got as bad as it had been. He was over it, and he knew it couldn’t be.

Downstairs, he ran into Mrs Malik of all people. “Welcome home, Master Niall,” she smiled and he smiled back and thanked her. She’d been different with him since he left, or maybe he was just paranoid. In any case she’d greeted him with a happy “Oh, you’re back home! Zayn will be so pleased to hear!” when he’d gotten back the first time. Niall hadn’t known how to respond and just blushed and mumbled something he hadn’t even understood himself. He didn’t know if it was that or if she’d figured it out some other way – if Zayn had said something, god forbid – but she never mentioned Zayn to him ever again.

Distracted, Niall made his way to the sitting room where he expected to find his mother. When he entered the room, he didn’t only find his mother but also his nephew, now six years old and an orphan.

Theo looked up from where he was sat on the floor at his grandmother’s feet, playing with a few wooden horses that Niall recognised as toys he’d already played with. „Uncle Niall!” he exclaimed, bright smile on his face.

“Hello, little man,” he smiled, coming close enough to ruffle the little boy’s hair. “Have you been good for granny?”

“Of course,” Theo said importantly. “I’ve been doing my homework, right, granny?” He looked up at Niall’s mother for confirmation and got it in a fond smile and nod.

“Quite the model student, our Theo,” she said to Niall. Theo had just started school in the village and was learning how to write – the last letter Niall had gotten from home had been signed by him in big, clumsy letters. “The teacher is very pleased with him.”

“Well done, Theo,” Niall said, sitting down on the floor next to his nephew. “Keep it up.”

Theo ignored his words and instead handed him one of the horses. “Here, you can be this one. He’s called Biscuit.”

Niall remembered how painful it had been when, for a couple of months, Theo hadn’t recognised him when he’d come home. The little boy had been too small to remember him when he’d been gone for half the year and it had taken Niall his whole visit to gain his trust again, only to start from scratch by the time he visited the next time.

With a grateful smile he took the horse his nephew offered him, ready to spend the rest of his afternoon exactly like this.

*

Of course it was at church that Sunday that Niall saw him again.

His mother, Theo and him had walked down from the estate, taking advantage of the nice autumn weather to get some exercise and were a little bit later than usual because of it. When they walked down the aisle to their regular seats in the front of the church, Niall couldn't keep himself from glancing to his left, and there he was. He recognised the back of his head, would've probably even if it weren't for the rest of his family on both sides of him, including a man who must've been Doniya’s husband. Niall's heart lurched and jumped to somewhere in his throat and he gripped Theo’s hand tighter, looking straight ahead.

But then, just as they were walking past, Niall's head turned a fraction – against his will – to the left, just enough to see Zayn the moment he saw him too. It wasn't hard to tell from the way he tensed, and his stricken face, that Zayn wasn't exactly excited to see him. Before their eyes could meet, Niall turned his eyes to the front again. He felt a bit queasy.

Throughout the whole service, he imagined Zayn’s eyes on the back of his own head and it had him distracted enough to stumble over the simplest prayers. His mother kept glancing over to him and Niall tried to pull himself together, _not here_. It was hard and the service seemed at least twice as long as usually, but eventually it came to an end.

Niall stalled them for long enough so he could be sure not to accidentally stumble across Zayn in front of the church. Outside, he was actually thankful for the people stopping his mother to chat for once because he could see the Maliks walking back towards the estate in the distance and was in no hurry to follow them.

Even the nosiest and most talkative people were finished eventually though, and Niall collected Theo from where he was playing and caught up with his mother. She was still watching him with that look and he could tell when she made the decision to ask, steeling himself for what was to come. “You seemed...distracted today,” she started and Niall thought, _shit_ , trying to remember how often he'd looked over. His mother lowered her voice and leaned closer and Niall swallowed. “Niall, have you not been going to church in Dublin?”

Niall swallowed again, this time to avoid the relieved laugh bubbling up in his chest. That was the conclusion his mother came to, of course it was. “I have, mother,” he said, and it wasn’t a lie when he’d gone about once a month, was it? “I’m just distracted, you’re right.”

“Because of your father?” Maura asked sympathetically. “And what it means for you?”

Niall nodded quickly. “That’s it, yes.”

His mother sighed. “Don’t you worry too much, alright? Your father plans on helping you as much as he can still, and everyone else will be ready to answer whatever questions you might have, too. You’ll settle in just nicely.”

“Thank you, mother,” Niall mumbled, feeling dishonest and very strange about it. He wasn’t actually that worried about taking over from his father, that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.

They were rather quiet on their walk home, Theo holding one of their hands each and occasionally swinging back and forth between them, but not saying much either. Niall tried very hard thinking about anything but Zayn, or what it meant that he had to try so hard – not a thought process to follow up on while with his mother and nephew. This unfortunately meant Niall had no time to actually do some thinking until after lunch, when both Theo and his mother had gone to take a nap.

He knew he had to face it, face _Zayn_ , or his strange feelings would stay this way forever, this crooked and _wrong_. In Niall’s mind, Zayn was connected to the terrible things he’d felt and thought after their kiss, but also to all the sweet things he’d done for Niall, and the way he’d made him feel. He needed to sort out this mess to get over it, that much was obvious.

Niall just wasn’t sure how to muster up the courage.

*

Quite typically, Niall ended up doing what he usually did when there was a problem – nothing. Avoidance was exactly what he usually did and it served him well enough this time too. As long as he didn’t go too far into the garden, the chances of running into Zayn were slim.

He took Theo as far as the upper terrace just outside the house and if he wanted to take a walk with him, they went on a drive and explored the fields and woods and beaches nearby. The upside was that Niall got really close to his nephew again, the kind of close they’d been the last time he’d stayed for longer, only now there was more actual talking involved.

The downside was that Niall could feel himself slipping into that strange loneliness again that came with having no one his age to talk to. He’d gotten used to it, with his friends from uni, but except for Bressie, none of them knew about Zayn or much of his home situation in general. He couldn’t very well write to Liam either, because he hadn’t done much of that since starting university, or at least not the kind where he actually told him anything. There were too many secrets there, now, and he felt like a liar so he’d rather just not say anything. He missed him though, just as he missed Harry and Louis – and so oddly different from how he missed Zayn.

One afternoon, Niall had taken Theo to the village to show him the market and their tiny harbour when it all came to a head.

“Niall?” he heard someone ask and stiffened, because he knew that voice. For a moment, Niall considered ignoring it, acting as if he hadn’t heard, but Theo, who was holding his hand, had and turned around to look for whoever was calling his uncle.

Niall knew before he turned around to face them. “Hello, Louis.”

“You…,” Louis mumbled, coming closer until he was right in front of Niall. He was still wearing his work clothes, had probably just finished his shift – apparently still working on a fisher boat. “You bloody…”

Theo made a small noise and hid his face in Niall’s side, causing Niall to wrap an arm around him protectively. He could see Louis’ face softening as he took in the child.

“Hello, Master Theo,” he said quietly, sitting on his haunches to face the boy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not usually this rude, I’m just currently very cross with your uncle, do you understand that?”

Theo blinked at him. “Why?”

Louis looked up at Niall for a second, then back at Theo. “Have you ever lost a toy and couldn’t find it again no matter where you looked?”

Theo nodded, sadly and seriously.

“I lost your uncle a little bit like that.”

“You lost Uncle Niall?” Theo asked confusedly. “Where?”

“That was the problem, wasn’t it?” Louis said very softly. “I couldn’t find him. He just disappeared one day, out of the blue, and I couldn’t find him anywhere.”

“Lou,” Niall breathed, biting his lip to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes. Louis ignored him.

“Do you understand why I was angry, Master Theo?”

“Uncle Niall didn’t say where he was?”

“Exactly,” Louis nodded. “Clever boy. We were friends, and then one day...we weren’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Niall said. “I’m sorry, Louis, I really am. I didn’t mean to disappear that way.”

“Yeah, well,” Louis said and got up, fixing Niall with a hard stare. “That doesn’t explain it, though, does it?”

“No, I reckon,” Niall admitted quietly. “There is an explanation though, I can explain this. Just...not here.”

Louis narrowed his eyes. “Where, then? I want to hear that bloody explanation. It’s been four years, Niall, _four years_! You never told anyone, we had to find out from Zayn’s mother and you never even showed your face again when you visited! This better be the best explanation on earth. I’ll meet you at your fancy Italian garden this time tomorrow, if you want to have any chance of saving this friendship.”

He stormed off before Niall could react and he dragged in a deep breath. Niall could feel Theo’s eyes on him but just stood there for a moment, head tipped back and one hand covering his eyes.

He had no idea what to tell Louis.

*

He still didn’t know by the time he was leaving the house. Niall had considered not going, but then he’d remembered the look on Louis’ face when he’d told him this was his only chance, and the clenching feeling in his own chest. He didn’t _want_ to be the one to ruin it, further than he had already. If he had a chance, he was gonna take it.

Even if it meant he might have to talk about what had happened for the first time...since it had happened.

Louis was already there, perched on the wall surrounding the Italian Garden. He jumped down when Niall approached and sat down on the steps leading to the sitting part of the terrace while Niall chose the low balustrade surrounding the little pond in the middle.

“You came,” Louis said and Niall nodded. Louis took a deep breath. “Wasn’t sure whether you would. Just, before you start…you know I’m probably going to tell Harry all of this, right?”

“Yeah,” Niall nodded again. “I was expecting it, yes.”

“Okay,” Louis said. “Okay. And as for Zayn,” he looked up when Niall winced and Niall blushed bright red, “I think you should tell him yourself.”

“Y-Yeah?” That wasn’t what Niall had expected, and he could feel his heart racing and mind spinning. What did Louis know?

“Oh come on,” Louis groaned. “I’m neither stupid nor blind, Niall. I knew this was about him. About whatever happened between you two that summer. It couldn’t be anything else from the way you disappeared suddenly and Zayn comes home absolutely soaking wet from a mysterious walk he was taking and doesn’t talk at all for two weeks straight. Do you know how often I’ve caught him staring towards your house with those sad puppy eyes? Or the Lost Gardens? I know you two spent your time there, and I could tell from the way you were with each other that it was…different with you.”

Niall just sat there for a moment, stunned. His heart was still racing and his breath was quick and shallow, and there were about a million more questions in his head than before. Resolutely, he pushed the part about Zayn into a corner of his mind to examine and pick apart later. “And you didn’t mind?”

“No,” Louis said, sounding sure. “I knew about Zayn before you came along so I suppose I had time to get accustomed to it but – why would I, even if I hadn’t known? Should it be wrong just because the two of you happen to have a cock between your legs?”

Niall blushed again and laughed a little breathlessly. This was…not what he’d expected. He hadn't thought there were people who thought this way outside of Dublin, generally hadn't even really considered anyone being alright with homosexuality without ulterior motives.

“Niall?” Louis interrupted Niall’s thoughts. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, can you try and clear up for me why you abandoned us?”

Niall winced again. Obviously Louis would feel like he’d abandoned them, and Niall felt bad but also a bit harshly judged. He really did have to explain this. “Well…what do you know about what happened back then?”

“Only what I pieced together myself from what I’d seen before and how Zayn reacted to your disappearance.”

“He…he didn’t tell you anything?” Niall asked hoarsely.

Louis laughed, but it didn’t sound very happy. “No. No, Niall, Zayn didn’t tell me a bloody thing. He was miserable, believe me, a right mess, but he wouldn’t say what happened. And don’t you – don’t do that thing where you wonder if he’d want you to tell me, I can see you’re thinking about it. I’m sure he’d have told me if he hadn’t been so hurt, and scared about telling on you. But now you know you can trust me, so…out with it.”

It was a little bit weird, Niall thought, how well Louis still knew him after four years because those had in fact been his thoughts. He really didn’t want to make any more decisions Zayn could hate him for, but he supposed Louis had a point.

Niall took a deep breath and started from the beginning.

*

Abstractly, Niall knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep it up forever, hiding from Zayn. He hadn’t let Louis convince him to talk to Zayn, or for him to arrange a meeting between the two of them but deep down he knew it was inevitable.

Still, it was quite a big shock when he suddenly stood right in front of him.

Zayn was just _there_ suddenly, standing in front of Niall in the hallway – and, of course, his mother and sister both worked at the house, Niall shouldn’t have been so surprised. As it was, he gaped at Zayn for a few moments, neither of them saying anything. Niall allowed himself to let his eyes sweep across him from head to toe once, taking Zayn in.

He hadn’t changed much, from what Niall could tell on first glance, he’d filled out a little but was still slimmer than Niall with his broad shoulders, and a few inches smaller. He had a proper beard now, and for one short moment, Niall wondered what kissing him would feel like now.

“You’re back,” Zayn said flatly and Niall startled a little at his tone. He’d never heard Zayn sound like that.

“Yeah,” he said, daring to take a step closer. “Zayn, I…”

“I’m busy,” Zayn said brusquely, taking a step back and then promptly walking around Niall, away from him.

Niall considered calling after him, _going_ after him, but what was the point? He wouldn’t know what to say and the encounter had shaken him enough to be rooted to the spot for a couple of minutes.

Apparently Zayn still had that big of an impact on him, after all these years, and Niall had yet to figure out if it was because of their history or something else. He still thought Zayn was beautiful, obviously, and now that he’d accepted he could be sexually attracted to men it was clear that was what he felt towards Zayn, too. That, combined with the fond memories of their summer together, was a dangerous mixture of feelings, one Niall didn’t really know how to deal with this. So far his attraction to men had never been more than just that, easily solved by either ignoring them or getting off with them. Neither was exactly what he wanted from Zayn, but it was hard for Niall to put his finger on. The point remained that he thought it’d be best if he married a nice girl one day, someone to start a family and lead the estate with. So whatever it was he wanted from Zayn, he didn’t want to figure it out because it simply couldn’t be.

Niall shook his head at himself and walked down the hall. Ignoring it was probably his way to go.

*

And yet, for some strange reason, Niall had apparently recounted his whole dilemma to Bressie via letter, because in his answering one, Bressie wrote: _Why are you so intent on denying yourself happiness? You cannot marry him, so what? Don’t marry him. Marry someone else, or don’t marry anyone. But don’t stay away just because it’s the easier thing, that isn’t what love is about? And this is love, is it not? It speaks from each line. Do not be afraid of it, Niall._

In a fit of paranoia, Niall had burned his letter right after he’d finished reading it, but he couldn’t erase Bressie’s words from his mind. _Love_. How could it be that? Niall hadn’t seen Zayn in four years, hadn’t kissed him more than once, so calling it love had to be a bit far fetched. What he’d felt that summer, though, had probably been something very close to love, if Niall was honest with himself.

The least he owed to himself, and Zayn, was closing this chapter – apologising to Zayn so they could both be free.

At least that was what he told himself, when Niall suddenly started wondering where Zayn might be again. It wasn’t an actual plan to meet him yet, or to talk to him, but he wasn’t as afraid of running into him anymore – he was going to talk to him at some point anyway.

In his head, he started making a list of things he wanted to tell Zayn. It wasn’t a very long one yet but Niall figured he’d get to the other stuff later on, once Zayn seemed more willing to talk to him again.

After all, Niall knew next to nothing about Zayn now, and definitely not the reason behind the way he acted. Maybe he was hurt, or he felt awkward about it, or he was embarrassed. Niall had no idea what Zayn thought about him, at least these days - did he think back with fondness? It didn’t seem like it. But then again, Niall didn’t even really know what Zayn had thought of him four years ago. Yes, he’d been very nice and charming and affectionate, and yes, he’d kissed him back in that shed, but maybe all he’d wanted was to be Niall’s friend and help him get over what Bressie called a trauma.

In short, Niall was absolutely clueless.

Zayn really didn’t seem to want to talk to him, though, if his tendency to turn around and walk the other way whenever he spotted Niall was anything to go by. For a couple of weeks, whenever Niall got a glimpse of Zayn, the other man fled before Niall could so much as acknowledge him.

It was a little bit off-putting but Niall didn’t want to give up. He’d made up his mind about what to say to Zayn and he wanted to get to it – and the only possibility Niall saw for surprising Zayn and being alone with him was by venturing further into the gardens. Even after all these years, Niall still knew the places Zayn was most likely to work and he passed them all in his search for him, albeit without success. Maybe he’d missed Zayn, or he worked somewhere else now that autumn was approaching, but something compelled Niall to look over at the Jungle from where he was standing, and his decision was made. He was just going to take a look.

As soon as Niall entered the muggy air underneath the first exotic trees, he knew he’d been right. There was a shovel leaning against a tree trunk and a bucket a little bit further down the path. He followed the traces Zayn had left until he could hear the man’s still so familiar voice, humming a song Niall had never heard. Carefully, Niall rounded the last corner - and there he was. Zayn was decidedly not working, sitting underneath a tree with his head tipped back against it, a few tools on the ground next to him. A single ray of sunshine fell through the trees, casting him in a soft glow and making him almost otherworldly beautiful. Niall swallowed.

“I was hoping to find you here,” he said, and Zayn startled visibly.

“Christ,” he said, then seemed to realise who’d been talking, his face clouding over. “What do you want?”

“I just want to talk,” Niall tried, voice small.

“Leave me alone,” Zayn growled and pushed himself up. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Why not?” Niall pressed on and flinched when Zayn laughed, the sound coming out hollow and not happy at all.

“Now you want to talk? No thank you, I’m not here for whenever you suddenly feel like talking.” He came towards Niall, but only to shoulder past him, making his way back up the path quickly.

“Zayn, wait!” Niall called after him, but the gardener didn’t stop.

Niall knew it wasn't worth going after him, even though his knee was well enough not to bother him living his usual life it wasn't back to what it had been before being shot. He definitely wasn't a fast runner and Zayn was setting quite the pace, obviously desperate to get away from him. It stung, but together with what Zayn had said, Niall thought he understood what Zayn meant. Niall had run away from him without a single word, disappeared for _years_. He'd have to do some serious grovelling.

*

And Niall tried, he really did. He took up his daily walks through the garden again, just like how he'd done four years ago, sometimes by himself and other times accompanied by a happily chattering Theo.

They came across Zayn often enough, but no matter how Niall announced himself, if Zayn hadn't already spotted him from afar and disappeared mysteriously, he usually ran as soon as he'd noticed Niall. One time, he'd stayed but ignored Niall so entirely that Niall had started to feel stupid and eventually been the one to leave. If that were to happen now, Niall reckoned, he was frustrated enough to just tell him all the things he wanted to say. So what if Zayn didn't react, he'd still hear what Niall had to say and that was all Niall could do.

“Why won't the man talk to you, Uncle Niall?” Theo asked and Niall thought he should've really figured his nephew was old enough to make these connections now.

“Do you remember the man we met on the market a few weeks ago?” Theo nodded knowingly and Niall continued, “He's cross with me for the same reason, they just deal with it differently. Like how granny shouts at you when you've done something wrong but grandpa gives you a smack, you know?”

“But why are they cross with you?” the little boy pressed, causing Niall to curse internally.

“Oh, it was a long time ago, Theo. We were still kids,” he said evasively.

“Like me? Did you know them a long time ago?”

Eager to change the subject, Niall let Theo get sidetracked by recounting everything him and his new school friends had already gotten up to, but Niall's mind was somewhere else.

If Theo was old enough to pick up on those things and remember stuff from weeks ago, it might be time not to let him see or hear anything. Who knew what he was passing on to his grandmother or the staff when he told them about his days with Niall.

He enjoyed the time with his nephew too much to be willing to cut it short, which in turn meant he had to get this thing with Zayn sorted quickly. Niall thought that'd probably be advisable in any case because maybe he'd be able to start working on getting his heart rate to a normal level whenever he so much as got a glimpse of Zayn.

It was so stupid, Niall thought, how he was annoyed and frustrated by Zayn, hadn't talked to him in four years and didn't know if they'd even still get along at all, but his heart for some reason still went absolutely mad whenever Zayn was involved.

He knew he'd have to apologise to Zayn, try to explain what had happened as well as he could and then get over this...infatuation with Zayn that he seemed to have. It was probably his face. Niall reckoned that everyone with eyes had to have at least some sort of reaction to Zayn.

And the things Bressie had said in his letter, about _love_ – that couldn't be it. Or at least not anymore, Niall allowed. He didn't even know Zayn anymore, there was no way he could still be in love with him at this point. Niall had changed too, he wasn’t the young boy he’d been that summer. Whatever sort of relationship he’d be having with Zayn from now on, they’d have to start anew. Even it would just be the relationship between a member of staff and his employer.

In the hope of surprising Zayn enough so he wouldn't have time to make his escape, Niall left the house right after breakfast the next day instead of waiting until the afternoon. He scanned the gardens from his vantage point on the upper terrace to get an idea of where Zayn might be spending his morning and actually spotted some movement near what he thought had to be the Vegetable Garden. It was hard to tell from this distance but his best shot, so Niall headed there.

And indeed, when he carefully rounded the low wall around the Vegetable Garden, he could see Zayn, bent over and digging. The Vegetable Garden was one of the few properly enclosed gardens with only one exit, the one Niall was standing at. Zayn was nearby, within earshot, and Niall could easily block the gate so Zayn wouldn't be able to go further away than to the other end of the garden. It was perfect.

“I'm done with running after you,” Niall said with no introduction and Zayn startled, dropping his spade, and spun around. “You're going to listen this one time, and then you won't ever have to talk to me again.” Niall frowned a little and reconsidered. “Or actually, you might have to, but if you want we can keep that purely business between a gardener and the agent of an estate. Anyway.” He paused and licked his lips, almost expecting Zayn to try and barrel past him, but he didn't. He was just standing there, regarding Niall with an odd expression he couldn't place. “I'm sorry, Zayn. I'm sorry for not talking to you in years, and for running away the way I did back after...after the shed. It's hard to explain why I did it, but I reckon I owe you both an apology and an explanation so I'll try. Back then, I was scared. Terrified, really, because I didn't understand my own feelings and thought them wrong. And even after I started realising it wasn't as wrong as people always said”, he took a cursory look around, making sure no one was nearby, “to occasionally be wanting to kiss men as well, I suppose the embarrassment remained? This part is harder to explain than the running away, but I just...couldn't. I know it was wrong and I'm sorry. I know I've ruined every chance of being your friend again but I'd really like for us to be able to talk to each other so we can actually work together now that I'm the one filling in for my father. And I guess that's it.”

Zayn still hadn't moved and still wasn't saying anything, but Niall had told him what was necessary and didn't know what else to do, so he sighed and turned around, leaving with one last lingering glance behind.

And if he was a little bit disappointed Zayn didn't come after him, well, no one had to know.

*

Niall's relationship with Mrs Malik had suffered a little since everything with Zayn had happened – not necessarily from her side, she still acted warm towards Niall and the same as always except for how she didn't mention Zayn anymore, but mostly from Niall's side. He felt terribly awkward about having kissed her son and then ignoring him, and even more about the fact that plenty of things Zayn had done had gone straight to the corner of Niall's mind where he stored things to pull up when he was touching himself. Which was also a sin, if Niall remembered correctly, but he figured he was already going to burn in hell anyway, if such a thing existed. And by now, Niall had long since forbidden himself to think about Zayn while his hand was anywhere near his nether regions. It mostly worked.

Still, Niall's conversations with Mrs Malik had been rather sparse and sometimes stilted over the past few years. So when she approached him after breakfast a couple of hours later with a warm smile, Niall was a little surprised.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she said and Niall was suddenly reminded of the time right after the war, when she'd been the one to care for him. The feeling of fondness that came with it was strong enough for him not to dwell on how that was definitely not the appropriate way for a housekeeper to speak to her employer’s son.

Instead, he smiled back at her. “Good morning, Mrs Malik. How are you?”

“Oh, very well, thank you.” She reached inside of the pocket at the front of her apron and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “Zayn asked me to give this to you. I know you boys probably don't want an old woman like me nosing around in your business, but I am so glad to see you've sorted yourselves out.”

Niall's face felt like it was burning when he reached for the note. “Thank you, and so am I,” he managed to get out, but his heart was hammering and his head full of questions. What did Mrs Malik think? What did she _know_? And what was written in that note Zayn had his mother deliver?

As quickly as was acceptable, Niall hid back up in his room, sitting on his windowsill to look out across the gardens, the letter clasped in his hand. His fingers had creased the material a little and he tried to smooth it out by stretching it on his thigh, shaky fingers flattening the creases. He was too nervous to open it.

Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Niall tried to calm down. What could Zayn possibly be writing him? It couldn't be anything too bad, he didn't think. Hopefully.

Slowly and carefully, Niall unfolded the note, eyes fixed on the gardens for a while longer before he finally looked down on Zayn's letter.

_Niall,_

_I accept your apology. I will be working on the crops in the Melon Yard for the next few days._

_Z_

Well, Niall thought, that had been a little anticlimactic. Very short, and - Niall read it again. Was that an invitation? Was Zayn inviting him to come visit him in the Melon Yard?

He reread the note three more times before he decided that yes, Zayn was definitely saying he could pass by and this time he wouldn't run. Niall swallowed and rubbed his forehead. If he and Zayn were to become friends again – would it be good or bad for the stray feelings he still had left for Zayn? The sensible thing would probably be to keep any contact they had at a purely professional level, but Niall was great at convincing himself it'd be even better to be friends so as to prove to himself that was all he wanted to be with Zayn.

He didn't want to seem too eager, though, so Niall decided to wait at least a day. Instead, he stood up and headed towards his father's room to let him teach Niall more about the estate.

*

Despite his insistence towards himself that Niall only wanted to be friends with Zayn, he was awfully nervous when he headed out towards the Melon Yard the next day. The Melon Yard was near the Vegetable Garden, another one of their productive gardens. Niall didn't really know what the difference between them was – all he knew was that the third productive garden, walled Flower Garden, was filled with small boxes with windows on top, small greenhouses of sorts, in which they grew fruit and vegetables in need of a warmer climate than the English one. Zayn would probably be able to explain it all.

When he arrived there, Niall took in the beds filled with small green plants, the fruit trees along the walls covered in ivy and the small two stories high shed tucked into one corner. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks at the memories and thoughts of possibilities that immediately flooded his mind at the sight and concentrated on the dark grey slate hanging on one wall, proclaiming was in the right place in capital letters (MELON YARD), until his mind had settled. He really needed to get this under control.

Zayn was in one corner, inspecting a row of big orange balls that grew near the wall. Pumpkins, Niall concluded.

He took a few careful steps closer, feet crunching on the gravel. “Are they coming along alright?”

Zayn turned around, a hesitant smile blooming on his face. Niall's heart gave a single, painful thud. “Surprisingly well, actually. They'll be grown in October, which is perfect.” He smiled a little wider, then bit the corner of his mouth as if to smother it. “You came.”

Niall gave a half shrug, half nod. “Was I allowed to?”

“It's what I wanted to say with my note. My mum passed it on, didn't she?”

“She did,” Niall nodded. “Thank you. I know I've made mistakes…”

“I just wanted you to know,” Zayn interrupted, looking sheepish, “that you haven't ruined it. Any chance of being friends again, that is. I understand why you did what you did, and it might take me a while to forget about it, but I've forgiven you. I don't... I don't want us to be nobody to each other. I'd like to be friends again, eventually.”

Niall bit his lip to keep his smile from splitting his face but he could feel it was still big enough. “I'd like that, too.” They just stood there for a moment, grinning at each other dumbly, until Niall cleared his throat. “So, what have you been doing to the gardens lately? Any changes I should know about?”

For a couple of days, Niall spent his time the way he had during that summer four years ago, split between Theo and walks through the gardens with Zayn. Zayn showed him all the changes he'd made and the things he'd left the same, and sometimes Niall just watched him do his work. It was awkward sometimes, in the beginning, when they both tried so hard not to mention anything personal and Zayn still sometimes got quiet and huffy or abrasive in reaction to some of the things Niall said, but it got better. Niall could tell they were on the right track, from the way Zayn would laugh more again, or brush his elbow when he wanted to show him something.

He could also tell that his body hadn't yet caught up with his mind’s decision to see Zayn as just a friend, because his palms still got sweaty when Zayn smiled at him, and his heart still raced every time Zayn touched him.

The main difference now was that his mother was much more attentive now than she had been four years ago.

“Were you with that gardener again today?” she asked one night over dinner and Niall almost choked on his bite. He very carefully and slowly finished chewing before he nodded.

“Yes, he's explaining the gardens to me.”

“He looks a little bit rough to me,” she said, focusing on her own plate. “Are you sure you should be alone with him?”

Niall grit his teeth. He knew why his mother thought Zayn looked “rough“, just like the whole village was suspicious of him just because his complexion was a little bit darker than the average Irishman’s. “I'm sure, mother. He's my friend.”

“Hm.” She glanced up at him, then back down at her dinner. “I trust you. But maybe you should consider going down to the pub some time? Or even up to Dublin for a visit. You socialise so little, it can't be good for a man your age to only be in the company of old people, children and the staff.”

That was the biggest reference to finding him a suitable wife his mother had ever made, and Niall's grip on his cutlery tightened. “I'll think about it, mother.”

Instead of going to the pub or planning a trip to Dublin, Niall went down to the gardens again the next day. He wasn't sure why he didn't even really consider his mother’s suggestion, he'd loved Dublin while he'd lived there and had plenty of people he could pay a visit, but right now, it just didn't seem like a very attractive idea to him. Was it because of the way his stomach did a stupid somersault when Zayn smiled at him? Niall wasn't sure if that was still something he could deny.

When he rounded the next corner, everything seemed to grind for a halt. Because there was Zayn, but he wasn't alone and very clearly not expecting Niall.

Louis was with him, holding Zayn close while Zayn's whole body was curled towards Louis, face pressed to his neck. He mumbled something and Louis chuckled, his hands rubbing up and down Zayn's back. “I love you more anyway,” he said, brushing a kiss to Zayn's temple – and everything clicked into place.

Niall stumbled a few steps backwards, tears blurring his view while he tried to keep his breathing steady and quiet. He remembered how surprised he'd been by Louis’ stance on homosexuality, but it really wasn't surprising when it concerned himself, was it? And obviously he wanted Zayn to get closure on this whole thing when he wanted him for himself, so that was why he'd pushed Niall towards an apology.

The pain was sharp in Niall's chest and he tried to breathe through it, tried to will back the tears. He should be happy for them. Zayn deserved someone who could be with him, someone who wasn't scared of what people might think whenever they were together, someone whose mother wasn't pushing for a wedding befitting his rank. It was better this way, when Niall knew he had to marry and make sure their line continued. Louis was great, and Niall should be happy.

He wasn't.

It took one telephone call to Bressie for Niall to sort out his visit to Dublin, and he told his mother over dinner that he'd be leaving in the morning. She looked pleased, accepting the food Safaa was serving them. “Do you already know how long you'll be staying for?”

“Not yet,” Niall said. “I've spoken to father, he says he won't miss me for a week or two.”

“Take your time,” his mother agreed. “See your friends and come back home safely once you're done.”

*

Niall had just finished loading his luggage into the automobile he'd be taking to Dublin, when he heard hurried steps coming his way across the gravelly driveway. Surprised, he turned around only to wish he'd finished up saying goodbye to Theo a minute or two earlier. It was Zayn rushing towards him, and he didn't look very pleased.

“Please tell me you weren't going to leave without saying goodbye again,” he panted, coming to a stop in front of Niall.

There was a pang of guilt in Niall's chest as he realised he'd been about to repeat his actions from four years ago. Apparently running away to Dublin without a word was what he did whenever he wanted to avoid dealing with his feelings.

“I…,” he started, shrugging helplessly. All he could think of was _Zayn and Louis, ZaynandLouis_. “I just...I wanted to give you space I guess?”

“Space?” Zayn repeated uncomprehendingly.

“I thought you and Louis might want some privacy…”

“Me and Louis?” Zayn asked, looking so confused, and Niall wanted to kiss him so much. _Oh_. “What the hell are you on about?”

“I saw you, the other day,” Niall admitted, and his voice sounded small to his own ears. “And I figured you might want some alone time.”

“What…?” Zayn said again and then his face cleared up suddenly. “Oh my god. You think Louis and I…?”

Niall stared at him. “Are you not?”

“No, god. Niall, no. Louis’ not that way.”

“Oh.”

“Were you…” Zayn stopped but his expression had completely changed, seemed almost smug now. He quickly schooled his features into a disapproving frown again, though. “You still should've told me. You were just gonna leave again, how is that better than last time? I never would've known if my sister hadn't heard you talking about it over dinner last night and told me about it.”

He looked genuinely upset by the time he was done and Niall tried to work through the jumbled mess in his brain to figure out a fitting response. “I know, I'm sorry. I don't know...I don't know what I was thinking. You just…,“ he took a deep breath and wondered if this was because of how much he'd been taken by surprise or if he'd have admitted it either way, „you make me do stupid things, Zayn. I act so strangely around you, I'm always reacting instead of thinking, you make me feel so...different.” He paused, unsure how to continue or if any of what he’d just said had made any sense at all. What had he just given away?

Zayn was looking at him, gaze intense, and Niall shivered involuntarily. “Well,” Zayn said, and then his hand suddenly nudged Niall's where they were hopefully hidden from view by the automobile, and Niall gasped. Zayn’s face was soft and Niall had no idea how to react. “Come home soon, yeah? And come see me when you get back.”

Niall nodded, dazed, and stared after Zayn speechlessly when he turned around and walked away. Just before he rounded the corner, Zayn looked over his shoulder and grinned at Niall, bright and happy just the way he'd smiled all those years ago. It still took Niall's breath away.

It was only when Niall climbed behind the wheel of his automobile several minutes later that he saw his mother still standing at one of the windows, watching him.

*

Niall didn't need a whole week in Dublin to figure out what he wanted. He stayed with Bressie, who kept pressing until Niall told him everything that had happened and then talked some sense into him. He went to a pub and met a few other friends, claiming to Bressie he needed time to think, but his heart wasn't in anything he did. He'd left it behind, with Zayn, even if the thought alone made him cringe at its cheesiness.

So Niall found himself driving up to the house again only five days after he'd left. He kissed his mother hello and ignored her disapproving face, went to find Theo and then his father, who was looking frailer than he had five days ago. Niall had half a mind to worry if maybe he'd been wrong to assume his father would be right as rain again, but he couldn’t even concentrate on that. He felt as if his whole body was only holding out for Zayn now, all he wanted to do was see him.

He had to dodge his mother on the way out, knowing she’d try to stop him – he could tell she’d drawn her own conclusions from what she’d seen the day Niall had left, but his worrying about that had to be pushed back now too. _Come see me when you’re back_ , Zayn had said, and there was no way Niall was waiting another minute.

The way Zayn had looked at him that day should’ve probably been enough for Niall to make up his mind, but he was sure now after what Bressie had told him. “You do realise how bloody gone for him you are, don’t you?” he’d told Niall with a fond but exasperated sigh. “Everything you’ve just told me…Niall, just stop thinking about the consequences and what might happen in the future for once and let yourself have this. You fancy him and from what you’ve told me I’d bet on everything I own that he fancies you just as much. Go for it now, and you’ll see what happens next. There’s always uncertainty that comes with a relationship – admittedly, it’s a lot less if it’s with a girl, but you gotta face this: there’s no girl for you, there’s him. And if worst comes to worst, you can still marry a girl and continue seeing him. I know plenty of men who do it.”

Niall knew Bressie was right. He also knew he didn’t want to marry an innocent girl only to lie to her, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. He was only 22, he had at least a couple of years until people would start wondering.

Niall was already in the middle of the gardens when he started worrying of Zayn and him were really on the same page here. What if he’d misinterpreted Zayn’s words? What if Bressie had only said what he’d said because of Niall’s skewed retelling?

Niall had just started freaking himself out enough to consider heading back to the house to do so in private, when suddenly Zayn was standing in front of him. He looked just as surprised as Niall felt, until a slow smile spread across his face. “You came,” he breathed, and Niall felt his own face break into a responding smile.

“I did.”

Zayn took a step closer, and Niall’s fingers twitched at his side. If he reached out now, he’d finally be touching Zayn. “I wasn’t expecting you yet.”

“Yeah, I…,” Niall mumbled, looking down at his feet and then up at Zayn through his lashes. “I came to my senses earlier than my visit was over and I...there was no need to stay any longer.”

Zayn’s eyebrows shot up and he shuffled even closer. Niall’s heart picked up pace. “So...how did you come to your senses? What’s the verdict?”

“I...Christ, Zayn.” Niall grabbed Zayn’s upper arm and dragged him towards a group of bushes so they’d be a bit more sheltered. “You must know by now how I feel about you.”

Zayn swallowed and didn’t take his eyes off Niall. “I want to hear you say it.”

Niall nodded, closing his eyes for a second to gather his thoughts. “Look,” he began, “I know it’s been four years and I know I’ve messed things up a whole lot in between, but we’ve been spending more time together again lately, and that week we had before I decided to run away again – it was the best one I’ve had since I got back home. It made me realise that...not that much has changed, for me. Over the past four years, that is.”

He paused and looked at Zayn carefully, trying to read his face. This had to be the hardest thing he’d ever done, and he’d actually graduated from university. Zayn was watching him too, attentively, a small smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. “It hasn’t changed for me either.”

“Yeah?” Niall breathed and Zayn’s eyes crinkled when he obviously tried to contain his smile. So did Niall’s. “Zayn, I...Jesus, this is hard.” He chuckled breathlessly and Zayn laughed a little too, still cautious.

They were close now, close enough for Niall to feel the warmth radiating from Zayn and he stretched his hand that little bit more, crossing the distance between until his fingers grazed the back of Zayn’s hand. Zayn inhaled sharply and looked down at their hands, Niall took this as a sign to slowly and carefully link their fingers. A smile ghosted across Zayn’s lips and he squeezed lightly. Niall felt as if his touch was the only thing keeping him on the ground, as if he would fly away if Zayn wouldn’t hold on. He was lightheaded and took a few breaths, focusing on Zayn’s warm hand in his.

“Alright,” he said, glancing up into Zayn’s eyes again, finding only softness. “Alright, listen. It took me a while to accept it and it might take you a while to feel like you can trust me again, but I – I can wait, and I will wait. Cause...Zayn, I was in love with you back then, and I’m pretty sure that I am still, or at least well on my way there -”

He stopped when Zayn’s hand was suddenly on his face, cupping his cheek. Niall could feel the callouses on his palm and fingers from all of the hard work Zayn was doing, and then there was his thumb, skimming across the corner of his mouth, making Niall gasp. His skin tingled where Zayn was touching him, and his blood was rushing loudly in his ears. “Niall,” he said, “I don’t want you to wait.”

Niall could feel his face fall before the words even properly registered, because why would Zayn touch him this way if he didn’t want – “No, no, sorry, not like that,” Zayn continued hurriedly. “Shh, listen. _I_ don’t want to wait. I’ve waited for four bloody years to see you again, to touch you again. I don’t want...let’s not waste another minute, alright? I know there’s still a lot we should talk about, but I’ve actually got you here now, telling me these things and all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you.”

Niall smiled at that, his lips stretching under Zayn’s thumb, and he lifted his own hand to cover Zayn’s. “Yes,” he said, his other hand settling firmly on Zayn’s hip. “You should probably do something about that.”

Zayn was smiling too, his free hand going to the back of Niall’s head, pulling him in. His eyes dropped down to Niall’s lips and Niall licked them self-consciously. He could see Zayn’s eyes tracking the movement and made a small noise, fingers tightening on Zayn’s hip.

He wasn’t sure who moved first, or if it was both of them, all Niall knew when their lips met was that this was what he wanted. Zayn’s mouth felt just like Niall remembered, had thought about so often, and he let go of Zayn’s hand on his face to wrap his arm around his middle and pull him closer.

The other man whined prettily and Niall dared opening his mouth to lick across the seam of Zayn’s lips and Zayn opened up readily, fingers tightening in Niall’s hair, tilting his head just so – and Niall stopped thinking entirely.

Everything was the push and pull of their lips, their hands on each other, the warmth of Zayn’s skin when he pushed one hand underneath his shirt at his hip. They kissed for what felt like ages to Niall, and when he pulled away it was only to let his fingers drift over the familiar shape of Zayn's face, touching lightly and in awe of his beauty.

“Are you sure you want to do this so quickly?” he asked quietly, one arm still holding Zayn close. “I mean, I've done some pretty stupid things to you.”

“Niall.” Zayn interrupted him with a kiss. “I'm sure. I've done some stupid things since we met again too -”

“You've done one stupid thing,” Niall corrected him. “Or not even that, you once were a little bit harsh with your opinion that got a little too close to the truth for comfort. And then that part where you ran away from me for a while, but I get that, too. Apart from that, you've been perfect, actually. It's a little bit ridiculous how perfect you are.”

“You got this wrong,” Zayn protested, shaking his head softly. “I'm hardly perfect.”

“Debatable,” Niall shrugged and leaned in to peck his lips. “You are to me.”

Zayn bit his lip but smiled around it. “Stop,” he mumbled. “You’re making me blush.”

Niall ducked down to press his face into Zayn’s neck, humming softly when Zayn’s hand started carding through his hair and scratching his scalp. He never ever wanted to stop touching Zayn. “I’m just trying to make sure we aren’t rushing this. There’s...we already have enough odds against us, I don’t want to add any doubts we might have to the equation.”

“I don’t have any doubts,” Zayn assured him. “I know this is what I want. I know _you’re_ what I want. I also know we can’t be, like, open about this, and that you might have to get married at some point, but it doesn’t change the way I feel.”

Niall had stiffened a little, standing back up straight so he could look at Zayn. So they were talking about this now.

“It doesn’t change the way I feel, either,” he said quietly. “I’ve had so much time to think about it and I still don’t know what to do - I don’t want anyone else, but I know I’m expected to marry at some point. And it makes me so _mad_ that I can’t have that with you -”

“You’d want to marry me?” Zayn interrupted, eyes sparkling. “If you could?”

Niall blushed violently. “That’s what you took away from this? Jesus, I can’t believe you.”

Zayn shrugged cheerily. “I don’t wanna think about what we can’t have, let’s just...be, yeah? Whatever happens, happens. But just so you know – I’d marry you too, if we could.”

Niall laughed, slightly overwhelmed. “Would you look at us – barely even kissed and already want to get married.”

“Well, I have been pining after you for well over four years, after all. And that just wasn’t the first time we kissed.”

Niall’s smile was softer this time. “Me, too. And I know – it’s been quite the build-up.”

“Did it live up to your expectations?” Zayn asked cheekily, but his fingers on the back of Niall’s neck were soft, careful still.

Niall grinned again and leaned closer to let his mouth skim along the sharp edge of Zayn’s jaw. “More than,” he whispered, flicked his tongue out the tiniest bit when he reached the hinge of Zayn’s jaw, the soft skin by his earlobe, and felt Zayn’s fingers twitch. “Although...I might have to double check.”

Zayn laughed, sounding breathless, and then they were already kissing again.

*

Niall could do it, he found, the whole not thinking about what they couldn’t have. He was on cloud nine, splitting his time between his family (Theo and his father, mainly) and Zayn. He saw Zayn every day, always for a chat and – whenever they were out of sight – for a snog as well. They hadn’t had time to go for a longer walk yet, spent the hours they got together in the pleasure gardens, curled close on the ground whenever they could, and on benches when it was too muddy or cold from the approaching autumn. It was harder to be touching as much of Zayn as possible when they had to find a park bench that was suitably hidden, but Niall quickly figured out that it was really quite wonderful to be straddling Zayn’s lap when he kissed him.

They were sat like that, Zayn’s legs across Niall’s thighs, Niall having worked one hand underneath Zayn’s shirt at his back and kissing him like that, when Niall suddenly pulled back.

“I want to see Harry again,” he announced, watching Zayn’s face transform into a pout.

“Which part of kissing me made you think of Harry?”

“None, promise,” Niall giggled and kissed Zayn some more for good measure before putting some space between them. “I just haven’t seen him in years, yeah? I realise he’s probably mad at me too, but I miss him.”

“Well, it’s Harry,” Zayn said. “Probably won’t be _that_ mad. You’re right, though, it’d be nice for both of you, I think.”

“Does he know?” Niall asked, gesturing between them. “About us, I mean?”

“He knows as much as Louis, I think. So whatever you told Louis, expect him to be aware of that. I haven’t told either of them that we...resolved our differences.”

Niall laughed, shaking his head. “We should give it a name, don’t you think? We’re...seeing each other. In a relationship? Boyfriends?”

Zayn kissed his cheek. “I’d like that. Boyfriends. What a funny word.”

“Everyone calls it that in Dublin,” Niall shrugged with a smile. “Brave new world.”

“Does that make you my beau?” Zayn asked teasingly.

Niall grinned back at him and gave him a short kiss, but the flutter in his chest was one of pure happiness. “I’ll be that, too.”

“Do you want to tell them about it, then? Louis and Harry?”

“No point in hiding it, is there?” Niall asked. “They’d figure it out at some point anyway, they’d never believe we „resolved our differences” some other way.”

“You’re probably right about that,” Zayn agreed. “Besides, I can’t wait to tell someone. Felt like I was bursting with it, these couple of days.”

Niall dragged him closer again, nuzzling the skin at his neck. “Me, too.” He kissed the underside of Zayn’s jaw, then the corner of his mouth. “Wanna shout it from the rooftops sometimes, how happy you make me.”

There wasn’t any talking for a long time, afterwards.

*

Niall left the organisation to Zayn, not really knowing how to go about it. Harry and Zayn both lived in the cottages down by the edge of the estate, closer to the village, and Niall knew that Louis was there quite often too, if not to see his friends then to visit his family who still lived there as well.

He showed up when Zayn told him to, met him behind the Melon Yard.

“Hey there,” Zayn greeted him, pulling him into a kiss that felt different to Niall. So did Zayn’s hands, nervously flitting across Niall’s back and sliding down his sides, never settling.

Niall pulled away. “Are you worried?”

Zayn laughed, but it sounded shaky. “No, I…yes, alright, I’m nervous. What if they don’t…approve?”

“They will,” Niall assured him. “I’m pretty sure they’ve seen this coming. And now stop thinking and kiss me instead, I deserve a proper kiss hello.”

Zayn didn’t waste any time following Niall’s order, licked into his mouth right away and pushed him back until his back hit the brick wall behind them with a thud. Zayn’s hand slid down Niall’s sides once again but one of them settled on his hip, squeezing tightly, while the other one groped Niall’s butt on the way down – causing him to groan deep in his throat – and brushed along his thigh until Zayn eventually hitched his leg up at the knee, pushing closer.

Niall groaned again, louder this time, and wrapped his leg around the back of Zayn’s thighs to keep him this close, clinging to his shoulder with one hand, the other one buried in the soft hair at the back of Zayn’s hair.

There was a noise, rustling leaves and then the crack of a breaking twig like someone was approaching, and Niall and Zayn sprung apart so hastily that Niall knocked the back of his head into the wall behind him.

Zayn threw him a concerned look and lifted his hand as if to reach out but then turned around to what Niall’s eyes were fixed on. Louis and Harry were coming their way – thank God, Niall thought – equally wide eyed.

“You’re early,” Zayn managed to say and Harry snorted.

“Oh, are we?” Louis asked, raising his eyebrows so much they almost disappeared in his hairline again. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Both of them were obviously trying to hide grins though, and Harry broke first. A huge smile spread across his face and he clapped his hands once. “I’m so happy! You wouldn’t believe it! Niall, oh my god –,” he paused to cross the space between them and pull Niall into a crushing hug, continuing to ramble into his hair, “I’ve missed you so much, it’s been so long but I can’t even mad at you because I’m so happy! I understand, Niall, I understand what happened back then. I’m so glad you figured it out, and so glad you’re back home…”

Niall was laughing and he could hear Zayn and Louis, too, standing somewhere close. “I’ve missed you too, Harry,” he said, muffled against Harry’s shoulder. “And…thank you.”

Harry pulled back then, looked at him once and hugged him again, shorter this time, before letting go for good. “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t mad at you at all, just got over it.”

“You have every right to be angry with me,” Niall said, glancing over at Louis. “You, too. All of you, really.” He shot a rueful smile Zayn’s way but his boyfriend – that was something that’d take some time getting used to – just shook his head reassuringly, a soft smile on his own face.

“We’ve forgiven you, I suppose,” Louis piped up and Niall shrugged a little helplessly, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Something right, it seems,” Louis joked but he was the first one to hug Niall this time. Harry joined in again quickly, and so did Zayn. Niall squeezed his eyes shut and felt at home.

*

Having his friends back meant that Niall got significantly less time alone with Zayn, but he was too happy they’d just forgiven him like that to complain too much.

But while his relationship with Zayn and their friends got stronger, Niall’s father kept getting weaker and weaker.

“I’m starting to worry I haven’t been taking this seriously enough,” he admitted to Zayn on one of the rare afternoons they had all to themselves. “What if my mother was right with her implications that…that he’s gonna die?”

Zayn was rubbing circles into the soft skin of Niall’s palm with his thumb, chin resting on Niall’s head who was leaning into his side, head on his shoulder. “Well,” he said, voice low. “I don’t know enough to ease your worries, I’m sorry. Just…if it should come to that, everyone’s prepared, yeah? You’re already doing most of your father’s work now and you’ve all had plenty of time to get used to it. Not that that makes it any easier –“

“I haven’t gotten used to it, though,” Niall whispered. “I’ve pushed the thought away and denied it and now I’m starting to think that might’ve been a stupid thing to do.”

“There’s still time left,” Zayn said, his other hand stroking along Niall’s back. “Use it, however much it is. I won’t be mad if you need to stay with your father more, I’ll be there whenever you need me.”

Niall pulled back enough to look at Zayn for a long moment. There might’ve been a lot wrong in his life at the moment, his father dying, the fact he had to live his relationship in secret just to name the biggest things – but he also had this boy here who, for some reason, seemed to care about him the same way Niall cared about him. Had for years, and probably would be for a long time, so really, Niall thought it could be worse.

“I love you,” he said, and well – he hadn’t meant to say that yet, but it was true nonetheless.

And from the way Zayn looked at him, Niall figured it hadn’t been too early. “Just in case it wasn’t obvious,” he murmured, his thumb stroking along Niall’s jaw and settling by his ear, “I love you, too.”

Niall leaned in to kiss him, deep and unhurried, only to rest his forehead against Zayn’s when he pulled away. “I think I’ll take your advice and spend as much time as possible with my father,” he said quietly. “But I also still want to spend time with you. Do you think we can make time to go back to the Lost Gardens before it gets too cold?”

Zayn’s face broke out into a grin that made his eyes crinkle. “I’d argue that it’s never too cold for the Lost Gardens, it just depends on what you wear, but I’ll keep my mouth shut because I don’t want to give you a reason to postpone anything.”

“Well, see it this way,” Niall grinned, rearranging their limbs until he was straddling Zayn. “When it’s still warm enough, we’ll get away with staying in one spot not moving much without turning into bloody icicles.”

Zayn’s eyebrows waggled up and down suggestively. “Any ideas why we’d want to do that?”

Niall ducked down to bite at Zayn’s throat, going hot all over from the way Zayn tilted his head to give him better access and suppressing a moan. “I have a few ideas.”

Zayn’s hands tightened on his hips. “Soon?”

Niall, who had wanted to go back to the Lost Gardens mostly for nostalgic reasons, suddenly felt almost painfully aroused at the thought of getting Zayn somewhere far away from everyone else, where they were sure to be all alone. He pressed closer and kissed away Zayn’s surprised hiss when he noticed Niall’s arousal. “Can you make tomorrow work?”

*

Zayn could, and when Niall met him by the rose garden the next morning, the air already seemed charged between them. After the day before, it was clear that they both wanted to take their relationship to the next level and it made Niall as nervous as it turned him on.

They hadn’t done more than occasionally pretty enthusiastic snogging because it felt strange to get up to something hidden behind some bushes because they couldn’t really go to either of their houses. And Niall wanted to, badly, but he’d never been with anyone who meant this much to him. Really, Zayn was the only one who’d ever mattered.

They walked close enough for their shoulders to bump every few steps, sending sparks through Niall’s body each time, but not touching. There was no way of knowing who might see them heading towards the wilder parts of the estate.

When they arrived at the edge, Zayn pushed aside a low branch that lost all of its rusty brown leaves in the process and let Niall walk through, following after him. „Welcome back,” he said, and his smile was bright when Niall turned to look at him.

He couldn't help but laugh happily, reaching for Zayn's hand and tangling their fingers – and all of the nerves, the urgency Niall had felt earlier just dissipated. He still wanted Zayn, that wasn't a question, but he didn't feel jittery with it anymore, was content to just hold his hand for now. “It feels so good to be back.”

Zayn tugged him closer by the hand and gave him a quick kiss. “For me as well. Wasn't the same without you.”

This time Niall started the kiss, slow and lingering before he pulled back to say, “Where are you taking me for this picnic, then?”

“I was thinking of a familiar spot,” Zayn said, grinning. “One where we can take shelter if we get too cold.”

Niall gasped quietly. “The gardener's shed?”

Zayn nodded but seemed a little concerned now. “Yes, unless you'd rather go somewhere else? If it brings...bad memories?”

“They're not bad memories, Zayn,” Niall said softly. “Yes, I reacted stupidly, but every other memory I have from that shed is nothing short of wonderful. I remember the day you showed me the names and were so lovely to me, and I certainly won't ever forget the way you kissed me in the middle of that damned thunderstorm.”

Zayn laughed a little breathlessly, his cheeks tinted pink. “You kissed me, more like.”

Niall laughed. “Either way, I don't _want_ to forget that. I love that you want to take me there.”

“Let's get going then, shall we?” Zayn asked and squeezed Niall's hand.

Niall looked around as they walked, taking everything in much the same he had the first time he'd come. “Not much has changed, has it?” he said eventually. “Over the last four years, I mean. It's a bit more overgrown but it doesn't look any less beautiful. How are the pavilions, do you know?”

“Not that different either, I think,” Zayn said, looking over at Niall curiously. “Why?”

“Well it's just…” Niall made a big gesture that was meant to encompass the whole garden. “This is beautiful, isn't it? Everything here, our whole estate, really. My father and I have been wondering if we should start thinking about alternative ways to bring money to the estate. We don't make much with farming and my father's businesses aren't going well anymore – haven't in years, which is why he never told me about them in the first place – but now that I'm in charge, I have to come up with something. I've learned a few things at university and there's something called tourism now, people in Ireland travel more or even come to visit from England or the Continent.”

“You want to open the gardens for visitors?” Zayn asked, understanding what Niall was getting at.

“I've just had the idea,” Niall shrugged. “I mean, a part of me wants to lock them so you and me have them all to ourselves,” Zayn laughed at that and squeezed his hand again, “but there's also a businessman in me who sees this huge opportunity -”

“I think it's a brilliant idea,” Zayn said. “I mean...it won't happen immediately, will it?”

“No,” Niall said, his tone relieved. He'd been worried Zayn wouldn't like the thought of letting strangers into “his” garden at all. “It'd take a few years, setting everything up and preparing for visitors, starting locally and letting the word spread further eventually. You don't hate it?”

“No,” Zayn shook his head. “In fact, if it took off – what do you think, could we transform the rest of the staff quarters into holiday homes? Is that something rich people would spend their money on?”

Niall almost tackled him with his hug, pressing a bruising kiss to Zayn's mouth. “You're a genius,” he said, meaning it. “I love you.”

Zayn laughed, startled. “And I you. Does that mean you like _my_ idea?”

“It's gonna be brilliant, Zayn,” Niall said. “We're gonna be brilliant.”

Zayn kissed him again for that and Niall felt suddenly and foolishly hopeful for their future. Maybe if they worked together on this almost terrifyingly big project, no one would ever wonder why they spent so much time with each other. Maybe they actually stood a chance.

Niall still felt great when they arrived at the shed. Here in the Lost Gardens, he felt safer than anywhere else, like Zayn and him were the only two people in the world.

He followed Zayn around the small cottage, admiring how it hadn’t changed either, and helped him spread their blanket on the small clearing behind it, just like they’d done all those years before. It would have felt exactly the same, if everything hadn’t changed. And since neither Niall nor Zayn seemed inclined to stop touching each other for more than a second while they were out here, it was a completely different picnic this time around.

“I think we should probably move inside of the shed,” Niall said quietly, his head resting on Zayn’s chest. They’d finished the main course but still had the dessert left, Mrs Malik’s sinfully good apple pie. “It’s getting a little bit chilly out here, don’t you think?”

Zayn hummed and ran his fingers through Niall’s hair one more time. “Will you carry me?”

Niall snorted. “You wish, darling.”

He could feel Zayn’s grin from where his chin was resting against Niall’s head. “Darling?”

Niall blushed. “Shut up.” He pinched Zayn’s side and grinned when the gardener yelped, trying to wriggle away. He lifted himself up on one arm, narrowing his eyes at Zayn. “Zayn, are you ticklish?”

“No,” Zayn said, way too loudly and quickly, and Niall reached out again, tickling his side. Zayn squealed and covered his mouth a moment too late, causing Niall to burst out laughing and double his efforts.

“Stop it,” Zayn laughed breathlessly, trying to move away. “Oh my god, Niall, stop it.”

When he nearly managed to roll off the blanket in an unexpected move, Niall took matters in hand and simply straddled his waist, restraining Zayn so he could tickle him mercilessly. It took him about a minute to catch on to what was happening, until Zayn made a sound through his laughter, a low groan that went straight to Niall’s nether regions. He looked down at where he had Zayn pinned to the ground, face flushed and panting, but not laughing anymore. Instead, he was staring up at Niall with dark eyes and a similar sound crawled up Niall’s throat. He rutted forward once, helplessly, and Zayn’s eyes sort of rolled back into his head before fluttering shut.

“Niall,” he whispered, and Niall ducked down to swallow everything else he might’ve wanted to say in a deep kiss.

It was different from any of their other kisses, even the ones that had left Niall breathless and yearning for more, uncomfortably hard in his trousers – this was a step further. He made another needy sound and pushed closer, hands on both sides of Zayn’s head, hips rolling desperately.

“We should,” Zayn gasped, pulling Niall’s hair to bring an inch of space between them, “we should really go inside now.”

“Yeah,” Niall agreed, equally breathless, and got up, bending down to help Zayn to his feet. They gathered up their things in a rush, and every time their eyes met or fingers brushed, a shudder ran through Niall’s entire body.

In the shed, Zayn dumped the bag with the rests of their picnic on the floor and barely waited for Niall to spread the blanket out on the dusty floor before he pushed him up against the wall. It was like their first kiss in reverse and Niall whined, scrambling to get his hands under Zayn’s shirt. He palmed at Zayn’s hip and slid the other hand up Zayn’s back, listening as Zayn’s breath hitched and he pushed his hips forward, one thigh slotting between Niall’s.

They kissed like that until Niall’s lips felt sore and all he wanted was more than the friction they caused by grinding the way they did. “Zayn,” he tried, pulling away the slightest bit. Zayn chased his mouth but seemed to realise that Niall wanted to say something, pausing with his lips just brushing Niall’s. It was really fucking distracting. “Have you…have you ever…?”

Niall stopped, unsure what exactly he wanted to ask, wanted to know, but Zayn nodded. “Yes. You?”

“Yeah,” Niall admitted. “But it’s never meant anything.”

“And it does now?”

“Fuck,” Niall mumbled, reeling Zayn in by the back of his head. “You have no idea.”

He pushed Zayn backwards but kept kissing him, even when they took a tumble down onto the blanket, landing rather uncomfortably. Zayn didn’t seem to mind, he still clung to Niall as if he was the only thing saving him from drowning.

“Want you so bad,” he moaned, and that was all the encouragement Niall needed.

With shaking hands, he reached between them to get Zayn’s trousers, popping the buttons open and palming across the bulge he found, watching Zayn squirm. Zayn’s hands were on Niall’s butt, then, pulling him down and Niall squeezed almost involuntarily. Zayn made the most sinful sound Niall had ever heard and he pulled back a little, bringing enough space between them to tug Zayn’s trousers down and free his cock.

Zayn hissed and reached for Niall, making quick work of Niall’s buttons, taking him in hand. If Niall were still standing, his knees would surely have given in at that point, but since he was kneeling over Zayn, he merely collapsed on top of him.

They kissed and touched and nipped and licked and stroked, forgetting the chill creeping in through the broken window and the drafty door, and when Niall came right after Zayn, he covered his body with his own like a blanket.

“Are you okay?” Zayn asked quietly a few minutes later, hands running through Niall’s hair.

Niall hummed against his throat, pushing his nose against the underside of Zayn’s jaw. “Perfect. My bum might freeze off, but apart from that…”

Zayn laughed and cheekily reached down to grab Niall’s buttocks. “Still there, I think.”

Niall joined in on his laughter and kissed him quickly. “Just about.” He pulled his trousers up anyway and did up Zayn’s for him, pressing his lips to Zayn’s hip before tucking his shirt in. He wondered if he would get a chance to sneak Zayn into the house soon, spread him out on his bed and see all of him, touch him the way he wanted to, be touched in return.

A blanket on the hard ground of a drafty shed was not how he wanted to treat Zayn.

Bressie had explained to him how it worked, sex between two men, the mechanics so to say. But Niall had never gone that far with anyone, hadn’t wanted to reach that level of intimacy. With Zayn, though…Niall wanted it all.

“What are you thinking about?” Zayn murmured, pulling him up to rest on his chest again.

“You,” Niall grinned, kissing his throat. “More specifically, ways of getting you inside of my room. On top of my bed.”

Zayn groaned, his fingers tightening on Niall’s shoulder. “Niall…”

“I’ll find a way,” Niall promised. “You’ll see.”

*

“Where have you been?” Niall’s mother asked him, suddenly appearing in front of him when he tried sneaking back into the house. “With that gardener again?”

“His name is Zayn,” Niall said, stubborn and recklessly. “And he has some great ideas for the gardens.”

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” his mother pressed, her eyes narrowing when she took in his probably very dishevelled state. “Maybe you should plan another visit to Dublin. Don’t you have…someone waiting for you there?”

This time, Niall narrowed his eyes at her. He knew exactly what she was implying. “No, mother, I don’t have a girl. Neither do I need one, I’m quite happy where I’m at right now.”

“Niall,” his mother sighed, her voice taking on a desperate tone. “You should really start thinking about your future. You will need a strong woman on your side to successfully lead this estate and keep it in our family’s possession. Is there no girl you could maybe invite here for a few days?”

“No, mother,” Niall repeated irritatedly. “I’m only 22, not even Greg was married then.” He could see her recoil at the mention of his brother and felt bad for a moment before he decided it’d been long enough since his death to be allowed to mention him again. “Why must you press me like this? There’s no hurry!”

She’d steadied herself again, taking a step towards Niall who was trying to back away towards the stairs. “What about a few suggestions? Some of my friends have lovely daughters your age…”

“No, mother!” Niall interrupted her angrily. “I’m not interested, alright? I don’t want to get married anytime soon!”

He was up the stairs before she could say another word, shutting his door too loudly for his age, and dropped down on his bed. He’d been in such high spirits after separating from Zayn with a longing kiss and now his mother had brought him down to earth very roughly. He didn’t want to think about his responsibilities, only wanted to live in the moment with Zayn for as long as possible. He’d keep avoiding the topic around his mother, no matter what the price.

With a long sigh, Niall got up off his bed and headed towards his bathroom. He’d have to take a bath to get rid of the stickiness low on his stomach, his tousled hair and the smell he still imagined to linger in the air around him.

Afterwards, it was time to write a letter to Liam, saving another one of his friendships. It’d be a great distraction from the thoughts and worries swirling through his mind.

*

For a couple of days, Niall was left alone. He felt a little awkward around his mother after how he’d talked to her and she showed her anger by completely ignoring him, which hurt and stirred up painful memories from the time right after Greg’s death, but at least he wasn’t being pressed about marriage.

Still, he kept his time with Zayn to a minimum – which he hated – and spent it with his father, who kept growing weaker day by day. Niall took Zayn’s advice and tried to talk to his father more, actually talk, asking questions he would’ve never asked under different circumstances. And Robert answered them all, confirming his son’s worry that he, too, was sure the end was close. It was a difficult thing to accept, but Niall thought they did really all know what was bound to happen and were able to say goodbye their own way.

One afternoon, Niall was hurrying down the stairs from his father’s room towards the library where he was supposed to help Theo with his homework, when he, quite literally, ran into Zayn.

“Oh,” he breathed when Zayn caught him by the waist before he could stumble. “It’s you.”

“Hello,” Zayn said, releasing him rather reluctantly but stayed close, lowering his voice. “I missed you.”

Niall’s smile was bright and quick before he furtively glanced around, only relaxing slightly when he was sure that no one but them was there. “What are you doing here?”

“Helped my mother with something,” Zayn shrugged, vaguely pointing towards the kitchen over his shoulder with his thumb. “Niall…when can I see you again?”

Niall’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know. I’m not sure when I can sneak out for a longer amount of time again. Unless…” He looked around again, thinking. “Are you free now? I’m supposed to help my nephew with his homework but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you were there too.”

“Your nephew?” Zayn asked.

“It’s about time you officially met him, don’t you think?” Niall smiled. “Come on, he’s in the library.”

Niall turned around without checking if Zayn was following him. He knew he would, had seen it in Zayn’s eyes even before he’d finished talking. Zayn quickly caught up to him, walking close enough to knock their shoulders together lightly. “I love you, you know that?”

Niall smiled again and knocked back. “Love you, too.”

Theo was sitting at the big desk in the library, homework spread out across it, and he looked up when Niall and Zayn entered the room. “Uncle Niall!” he shouted, then narrowed his eyes at Zayn suspiciously. “Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of your uncle’s,” Zayn explained before Niall could even open his mouth. “Hello Theo, I’m Zayn. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You’re the running man!” Theo exclaimed, looking over at Niall for confirmation. “Uncle Niall tried to talk to you and you ran away.”

Zayn chuckled quietly. “He managed to make me stop though, hasn’t he? Now we’re friends again.”

Theo nodded seriously at that, seemingly all of his questions cleared up. “Are you good at writing?”

To say Niall was happy Theo had accepted Zayn so easily was probably an understatement. He felt like singing and dancing while he watched the two interact, Zayn looking over Theo’s shoulder and offering advice whenever Theo needed help. Niall was content with sitting in an armchair nearby, watching them, these two most important people in his life. The thought was a little bit frightening, that Zayn was already as important to Niall as his nephew was, and that his love for them surpassed even that for his parents, but it was true nonetheless.

Theo hadn’t asked any questions in a few minutes when Zayn straightened up and walked over to Niall’s armchair, gingerly sitting down on one armrest. Niall should probably protest, he thought, but instead he tilted his head to smile up at Zayn. Zayn smiled back and ran a hand through Niall’s hair once. He didn’t say anything but his emotions were clear on his face and Niall knew they echoed on his.

Quick as lightning, Zayn ducked down to press one short but sweet kiss to Niall’s lips before he got back up and casually wandered back to Theo’s desk. Niall’s eyes darted towards the closed door in worry, even when he wasn’t quite able to wipe the lovestruck smile off his face. He fully intended to stretch their time in the library for as long as possible, and maybe drag Zayn to the back between a few shelves for a bit more kissing later on.

*

Robert Horan was laid to rest on a rainy and chilly day in late November. His father’s funeral wasn’t the ideal setting Niall had had in mind for seeing Liam again for the first time in years, but they hadn’t managed more than a few letters and telephone calls earlier on. However, Liam dropped everything when Niall told him about his father’s passing just to be there for Niall on the day of the funeral and Niall swore that he would never let Liam go again.

His best friend stood by his side at the graveside too, on his left while Niall’s mother was on his right, little Theo in front of him. Niall had one arm around his mother, trying to be comforting while also making sure she didn’t break down, his other hand on Theo’s shoulder. The little boy was quiet and leaned back against his uncle, watching everything with big blue eyes. Niall didn’t think he really knew what was going on, that his grandpa was actually gone for good.

Liam stood close enough for his warmth to seep through their layers of clothes right into Niall’s arm while the rain dripped down onto their umbrellas, and it made Niall feel a little less small. He was the master of their house and monies now, the head of the family. It was terrifying.

Zayn was there too, standing further in the back with Harry, Louis and the other staff, and Niall really would’ve liked to hold his hand while his father was being lowered into his grave, but the reassuring smile Zayn gave him every time he turned around to look at him had to be enough.

They had a reception afterwards, and everyone passed past Niall, his mother and Theo to give them their condolences – which, honestly, made the grief worse instead of any better – but Liam stayed close by, a steady presence at Niall’s shoulder.

Theo was getting tired and cranky, clinging to Niall’s hand and asking when they’d be going inside, his voice getting more and more watery each time. “Shall I take him down with me already?” Liam offered eventually, pointing at the path that led downhill from the graveside to the restaurant where the reception would be held. “If you’ll be alright on your own, I could take him inside.”

Niall looked at his mother, who was awfully pale in her black clothes but held herself proudly, and nodded. “Thank you, Liam. We’ll join you soon. You’ll be alright with Liam, won’t you, Theo?”

His nephew nodded and let go of Niall’s hand, reaching for Liam’s instead. Niall watched their black frames disappear down the hill, all the while shaking hand after hand, accepting condolences from people he’d never seen in his life. He hated every second of it.

When they were finally on their own by the grave, Niall’s mother sagged. She clung to Niall’s arm for a moment before she straightened up again, wiping her face once and taking a careful step towards the fresh grave. “Can you go on ahead, sweetheart?” she asked wearily. “I’d like a moment alone, please.”

“Of course, mum,” Niall said quietly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait for you a bit further down?”

“No, it’s alright. Go on, you must be cold. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Alright,” Niall mumbled, kissing her cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

Slowly, he started walking, lost in his thoughts, when he suddenly heard his name being called quietly. He turned around and saw Zayn by the side of the path, hidden partially by a row of trees, stepping from one foot on the other to keep warm.

Niall didn’t hesitate, didn’t even think, before he stepped off the path and over to Zayn, right into his waiting arms. He felt warm and familiar and comforting, and Niall buried his face against Zayn’s neck, letting the tears he’d held off so bravely finally flow.

Zayn just held him close, humming quietly and soothingly into his ear until Niall’s tears dried and his breathing slowed down again. “It’s so stupid,” he whispered. “We had so much time to prepare, and I thought I was but – I really, really wasn’t.”

“It’s not stupid,” Zayn said, quietly but fiercely. “Of course it hurts to lose someone you love, no matter how much time you had to make your goodbyes. It’s never enough time.”

They stood there for a few more minutes until Niall felt ready to face everyone again. He took a deep breath against Zayn’s neck, breathing in his familiar smell, and pulled back as far as he could when Zayn wouldn’t remove his arms around him.

“You’ve been very strong today,” he told Niall. “You can do the rest, too. I’ll be right there, yeah?”

Niall nodded. “I love you.”

Zayn smiled and leaned in to kiss him once, slowly and so softly Niall felt immediately comforted. “Let’s go in there, alright?”

Liam spotted the two of them as soon as they entered the restaurant and let himself be dragged over by Theo, who clung to Niall’s legs as if he hadn’t seen him in days. Niall freed himself of his nephew’s arms so he could kneel down and give him a hug, rubbing his arms and back to comfort and warm him.

While he was taking care of Theo, Liam and Zayn were talking in low tones, and Niall promptly started worrying again. He planned on telling Liam, just like he’d wanted to tell Harry and Louis, he just didn’t know how. When was the right time? What if he reacted poorly? Surely his own father’s funeral was the most inappropriate of times.

Still, when Liam pulled him aside when things had quieted down a little, Niall knew he wouldn’t lie to him. “Niall,” he said, very carefully looking around to see if anyone was within hearing range. “I’m just gonna get straight to the point. I know this is awful timing, but just to know what I’m dealing with…are you and Zayn, uh, lovers?”

Niall couldn’t quite keep the blush off his face and Liam’s eyes widened. “I just thought…I saw you looking at him a couple of times earlier, and then you were gone for so long and returned with him, and I remember how you two were with each other that one summer –“

“Yeah,” Niall interrupted. “Yes, Liam, we are. I love him.”

“Oh,” Liam made, exhaling. “Good. I mean…I’m really happy for you. Me, Louis and Harry sometimes talked about it and – you deserve this, the love you two have.”

“You stayed in touch with them?” Niall asked incredulously. “You talked about us?”

“Of course I stayed in touch with them, they’re my friends and I had nothing to run away from. Which isn’t meant as an accusation, god forbid. Just…you know what I mean, yeah?”

“I do,” Niall said, giving Liam a small smile. “I’m glad you did, Liam. Even if I was a terrible friend most of the time.”

Liam grasped his arm and squeezed it once. “You’ll always be my best friend.”

Across the room, Niall could see Zayn, Harry and Louis smiling at them, Theo curled up on his granny’s lap, and Niall thought that no matter how dreadful this day was, he was still very lucky for what he had.

*

When spring came back around, Niall had mixed feelings about it. On one hand, it’d be much nicer to spend time in the gardens again, on the other – it’d be a lot harder to sneak Zayn into the house when it wasn’t dark between afternoon and morning.

Zayn had spent more cold winter nights in Niall’s bed than in his own one, and it would be very hard on Niall getting used to sleeping alone again, should they be unable to hide his arrival and departure the next morning now that the light had returned and long days were on their way.

The months since his father's passing had been good to Niall. While still working on their plans to build a reputation for the estate and transforming it into a place people might want to visit with Zayn, he'd also found a couple of local businesses to invest in, and the first ones were already beginning to pay off only half a year later.

Liam had come to visit whenever his schedule at university allowed it and he didn’t have any engagements back at home, and they spent most of their time with the other three young men. Most of it was spent at the flat Louis lived in down at the village because they had their privacy there. It was the only place where Niall felt truly like himself. Him and Zayn didn’t have to hide with their friends, could be like any other couple around them – if a little more tactile than most were in public.

His mother had mostly left him alone about his choosing of a possible future wife. Niall wasn’t sure why she’d dropped the topic almost entirely, especially since he still met with Zayn every day under the pretense of working on their plans for the gardens, when really they spent much more time…otherwise distracted. It was a change, but a good one.

Another major change happened to Niall’s relationship with Theo. His nephew was still enthusiastic about school and learning, and seemed to have made plenty of friends, but as it was there were a few children in his class who liked to taunt the other students. They’d chosen Theo to pick on because he didn’t have a mother or father, and the little boy suffered under their teasing.

“Why don't I have a mummy or daddy?” he asked Niall one evening after Niall had tucked him in. He'd taken over most of Mrs Rooneys tasks since the nanny had asked for less work to take more care of her own grandchildren. Niall and his mother had decided Theo was old enough not to need a nanny and they still had Mrs Deakin, Louis’ mother, to do their washing and Mrs Malik to keep the house running on all other terms. The little boy had accepted it easily, even quite happy to be spending more time with his uncle.

“Well,” Niall began, searching for the right words. “You know, Theo, your mummy was very ill and your daddy was very brave, but they've gone to live with God and the angels up in -”

“I know they're dead,” his nephew interrupted him impatiently, looking at Niall as if he was particularly slow and it very nearly made Niall laugh. “You've told me this before, uncle Niall. But why don't I have anyone to call that? Rosie doesn't have her real mother anymore but she calls the lady her father married last year mummy. I want that, too.”

As often, Niall was amazed by the funny way Theo could express his childish thoughts so eloquently, he couldn't quite believe the boy wasn't even seven years old. “Theo...your dad can't marry another woman anymore.”

“Why can't I call you daddy?”

Niall was so surprised he only stared at Theo for a minute before he started protesting halfheartedly. He was more than flattered by Theo’s idea, thrilled at the realisation the boy who he loved like a son felt the same way about him – but at the same time he thought about his brother, Theo's real father, who had tragically and senselessly died in a war he hadn't even really believed in. He'd never properly gotten to know his son though, so when Theo didn't give up but instead started listing the ways in which Niall effectively already was his father, he was convinced easily enough. And the feeling he got when Theo addressed him as “daddy” for the first time was incredible. He knew Theo was getting a bit too old for calling him daddy and would probably soon switch to “dad” or “father”, but that was fine as well, exciting even. Would Theo use father the way Niall had or would it just be used when he was cross with him? Niall couldn't wait to find out.

There were two reasons why Zayn and Niall had learned to put their pyjamas back on after they’d had sex. Firstly because it was very hard to keep the rooms comfortably warm in the middle of the winter and secondly, because Theo liked to crawl into bed with them when he couldn't sleep, snuggling in between them. The first time he'd come into Niall's room at night, Zayn's horrified face had been mirrored on Niall's, but Theo hadn't been deterred by another man, by _Zayn,_ in his uncle's bed. They'd still had to have a talk with him, during which Niall tried to stress that Theo would never see either of them again if he told anyone about them, and so far the little boy had kept quiet.

Zayn's face when Theo came in for the first time and asked “Can I sleep in your bed, daddy?” was something Niall wanted to commit to memory forever, so full of wondrous love and amazement, like he couldn't quite believe he'd gotten this lucky in life. It was the same thing Niall felt.

They made space for Theo in their middle and the boy climbed in, cuddling close, looking blissfully sleepy and content when he closed his eyes right away. Niall watched him fondly until he looked up to find Zayn already looking at him with a soft smile on his face. He could feel his own answering smile spread across his face, some of his happiness manifesting in it. “I love you,” Niall told him and Zayn's smile widened.

He leaned forward to kiss Niall tenderly. “I love you, too.” They lay back down, careful not to jostle Theo and wake him up, and Niall had a hard time wiping his smile off his face.

Their future might still have been insecure, there might still have been expectations especially Niall would have to meet and secrets they'd have to keep for the rest of their lives, but right here, in his bed with Zayn's and his legs tangled under the sheets, Theo’s sleep soft weight between their bodies, Niall couldn't have been happier.


	3. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (awful and cheesy but i couldn't leave it out)

**Ireland, 22 nd May 2015**

Morna Allen looked at the small group of people surrounding her, her family. They were quite a happy bunch usually and today was a special occasion, their Friday night get together had turned into a proper party. Morna’s sister Isar, who’d gotten more from their Pakistani heritage concerning both looks and name, had brought the food while Morna and her husband provided the space in their kitchen and living room.

The telly had been on almost all day and since the announcement a few minutes ago, the volume of the music and their voices had multiplied. 62% of voters had voted YES, which meant that the amendment to the Constitution of Ireland had gone through and same-sex marriages would be allowed in Ireland.

Their family had been looking forward to the referendum with mixed feelings, but now that it was over, relief was the predominant emotion. Morna looked over at her daughter Keira who hadn’t let go of her girlfriend’s hand all night and smiled. The way Nora was looking at Keira and vice versa, it wouldn’t be too long until they’d make use of the amendment.

Morna tried to wipe her tears away as inconspicuously as possible. All she’d ever wanted was for her children to be happy, and this was a big step towards the acceptance Keira was still searching for. Morna took a deep breath, cleared her throat and reached for her glass to make a toast. One of her nephews caught her eye, turned down the music and everyone turned to her with expectant eyes.

“This is a happy day,” she started, “for us and many other people all around Ireland. There’s a story that most of us have heard plenty of times, but at least one person hasn’t. Nora, you’re family by now, to all of us, but I don’t think anyone has ever told you our biggest family legend. The rest of you will have to bear with me and hear it again but if there’s a day this tory would be fitting, it’s today since there were at least two more people who would have been very happy about this decision, had they lived to see it.”

Everyone but Nora nodded encouragingly, agreeing with her, so Morna continued.

“My grandmother, mine and Isar’s, was born in 1912 as Safaa Malik up in the staff quarters of Kylemore House, when the family was still living there. She and all of her family worked there at least until they were married, in the house as maids or, like her father and brother, as gardeners. Back then, a relatively small part was used by the family and tended to, a smaller one than you can visit today. The Lost Gardens made up an even bigger part, since a lot of the estate hadn't been tended to since the late 1800s.

“The Maliks were quite a liberal family for the time, starting with the fact that my grandmother’s mother had married a son of Pakistani immigrants, something that was quite frowned upon back then, but they had very modern views on many things.

“My grandmother was almost ten years younger than her brother, but the family was very close and must've shared a lot with each other, if not always right as it was happening. Most of this story was only fully explained to my grandma about ten years after it had started.

“When she was still a child, there were two wars in Ireland that you’ve all learned enough about in school, so I’ll spare you the details. Both of the Horan sons, the heirs of Kylemore House, fought in at least one of them. During the Irish Civil War, the older son died and the younger one, his name was Niall, was wounded. He returned to Kylemore House to heal and take his brother’s place at their father’s side.

“He’d been hit in the knee with a shrapnel and started to take walks through their gardens as exercise, where he met my grandmother’s brother, Zayn. The two of them had been friends as children but lost touch since, but Niall had come back home not only wounded but also traumatised, and Zayn was the only one who he talked to about it. The two of them started spending more and more time together and eventually fell in love with each other.”

Nora gasped, everyone else turning to look at her. They’d forgotten what it was like to hear this story for the first time. “In the 1920s?” she asked, and Keira placed a soothing hand on her thigh. „What happened?”

“This part is a bit vague because neither Zayn nor Niall ever fully disclosed what happened, but something must’ve happened between them, because Niall ran off to Dublin for university and rarely ever came back home in between. When he came back four years later, it didn’t take very long for them to continue right where they left off, and it seems this time around they got it right because they soon started working together. The two of them were the ones who turned Kylemore House into what it is today, a popular holiday destination and named in every travel guide at least for the famous gardens.

“They were together for all of it, but for some reason they were lucky enough with who knew about them because it stayed a secret for longer than being homosexual was ruled a crime. There were rumours, because none of them ever married and they both lived at Kylemore House together, but no accusations were made. They raised Niall’s nephew together, his brother’s son Theo, who Niall eventually adopted to make the father-son relationship they had official.  My father used to tell me he thought Theo was his older cousin, and he was like an uncle to me. I did get to know Niall and Zayn, they were still alive for long enough for me to remember them. They had moved down into the village by then, there were too many tourists around to live up at the house comfortably.

They died shortly after another in the 1980s, and the only official confirmation for their relationship anyone outside of the family ever got was when Niall’s will was opened after his death and clearly stated he didn’t want to be buried where the rest of his family lay, but at a gravesite Zayn and him had picked out together. They were able to lead their lives together in relative secrecy, which was a sacrifice they were obviously willing to make, and they always seemed very happy to me.”

Morna took a look around at her family, at Nora with her hand pressed to her mouth and tears shining in her eyes, and smiled. This was a happy story, and one she wanted to be carried on through the generations.

“Theo continued leading the house after their deaths, and his children took over from him a few years before he died. We’re still quite close to that part of our family, even though there’s no relation by blood. But blood isn’t everything, and from what my grandmother told me and what I could see for myself, Niall and Zayn were deeply in love for all of their lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's ever sent a nice word to keep me going :)


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